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She smiles. “Well, Charlotte is right here. Why don’t we ask her?” She turns to Charlie. “Charlotte, sweetie, would you prefer some…boys’ clothes? Or some pretty girls’ clothes, with lots of pink, like all the other girls your age?”
Charlie looks up at her mother like it’s a test. “I want some girls’ clothes?” She makes it sound like a question.
I sigh. “She’s just saying that to make you happy.”
“Are you just saying that to make me happy, Charlotte?” Bronwyn asks.
“For Christ’s sake, Bronwyn. Give it a rest,” I snap.
“I want girls’ clothes,” Charlie says.
“This isn’t fair on her.”
“Laura, please. I just want to spoil my daughter. That’s all. That’s all right, isn’t it?”
I close my eyes briefly, take a quick, discreet breath. “Of course. But she’s got school tomorrow.”
“So we’ll shop after school.”
“And apart from shopping, what do you have in mind for Charlie’s birthday?” I ask, just to change the subject.
“I thought we could have a birthday party.”
“A birthday party? Where?”
“A party?” Charlie squeals.
“Well…” Bronwyn looks around. “What about here?”
“Yes! A party here!” Charlie shrieks.
“But her birthday is on Saturday next week! When do you want to have a party?” I say.
“What about Saturday next week!”
“Yes! Saturday next week!” Charlie shouts.
“But that’s…a week and a half away! It’s not a lot of notice, all her friends are bound to have other plans. And it’s going to take organizing, isn’t it? You never said anything about a party! I thought you were going to do something like last time, take her out somewhere, spend the day together…”
I turn to Jack for support but he’s staring at his plate.
“But I thought…” Bronwyn hesitates, tucks her hair behind her ear. “I just assumed, being Charlotte’s birthday, that you would have organized a party for her.”
“And I thought—” Jack kicks my foot. I take a breath. “Okay…” I say. “Look, we can do something here, sure. If that’s what you want.”
“Well, it’s for Charlotte, not for me, but thank you, Laura.” She turns to Charlie. “Who would you like to invite?”
Charlie blurts out names, a roll call of her friends. Brielle, Isobel, Nikki, Omar, Jolene, Mohamed, Alex, Ruby, Yolanda, Eric, Val, Shalina—
“Val?” I blurt. “Does that mean you’re friends again?”
She nods enthusiastically.
“Yes. I took her out of the freezer.”
“Excuse me?” Bronwyn says. “Out of the what?”
“The freezer,” Charlie says. “Mama showed me—”
