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Twenty-Seven
Magnolia
The day after the move I get lunch with Henry and Jonah at Annabel’s. Just the three of us. Taura’s got work, and I wouldn’t much like to go to lunch with their little throuple anyway. Henry and Jonah are relatively normal when they’re with us or by themselves but the second Taura’s around the wheels start to fall off. Because they’re both dating her, they both have proper feelings for her, and she for them…
She says she’s just playing it out, trying to work out who to be with and what to do.
The predicament here is that both Henry and Jonah have spent their entire adult lives, for all intents and purposes, evading committed relationships. Neither has ever really wanted one until now but both are too proud to admit it, and neither wants to admit the uncomfortable truth that they’re both now terribly interested in the same girl. They might even both love her. Henry does, I can tell.
The fact that he’s still in it, dating her when Jo is too, even when I can see it hurting him and this friendship he’s had for twenty-odd years, means that he’s in deep. Henry’s too pragmatic to let something like this happen under normal circumstances, so I can only assume that the norm has shifted and love is now involved.
We don’t talk about it, I don’t even mention her name once. Which is difficult, actually, as we just moved in together and she’s a fairly central part of all our lives. Anyway, we worked around it. Chatted mostly about my mother’s rampant and highly publicised dating life.
“It’s the age of them that bothers me the most,” I tell them as we step out on to Berkley Square. “Your age.” I nod my chin at Henry. “Unbelievable…”
I pull out the vintage CC logo black Chanel sunglasses and pop them on. I never wear sunglasses on account of my eyes being so wonderful, but these are so adorable, it’d almost be a crime not to.
Jonah turns on his heel to face us as he walks backwards. “I mean, Parks, the honest to god truth is Arrie is well fit.” I glare over at him and he gives me a little shrug as he zips up his black Fear of God quilted shell down jacket. “Like, if she wasn’t your mum I would be all up in that.”
Henry pulls a face and I, simply horrified, smack Jonah 12,000 times from his head to his stomach.
“Jonah!
“What?” He frowns defensively, not flinching at my hits once. “Parks, come on. Her eyes, those come-hither, fuck-me eyes…” He gives me a look. “Dead sexy.”
Henry’s faces scrunches up and my mouth falls open, aghast.
“WE HAVE THE SAME EYES!” I yell.
“What?” He frowns.
“My mother and I have the same eyes.”
Jonah rolls his eyes. “You do not.”
“Yes we do!”
“Are you stupid?” Henry scoffs. “Look at them.”
I point at them wildly and Jonah leans in to inspect them.
“Oh, fuck—” Jonah leans away from me dramatically before pointing right in my face. “Yuck.”
I smack his hand away. “Don’t point at me and say ‘yuck.’”
Jonah looks at me, eyes wide and completely disturbed, pointing with two fingers now. “That’s fucking disgusting!”
“Stop pointing at me and saying mean things!” I stomp my foot and Henry starts laughing.
“I take it back.” Jonah shakes his head. “I take it all back,” he says and then does one of those involuntary shudders.
“Alright,” I growl under my breath. My pace walking down the street is brisk now and fuelled by grumpiness. “Settle down. You briefly peered into my dazzling eyes, not into Dante’s inferno.”
“Hey, so what’s Bridget up to these days?” Jonah calls after me, cheeky grin on his face. I pinch my fingers together right up in his face.
“Paper thin ice, Jonah. Paper thin.”
Both boys chuckle and it makes me feel relieved that they can still be normal with each other when we take out the pickle in the equation.
