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But the old woman waves her off. “I will not speak about the details of what was said, but I will tell you this. Nolan Crowley is a man like any other, dedicated to his own people, and I can respect that. He is dedicated to his wife as well, though, perhaps she doesn’t know it.” Her smile turns mischievous as my eyes widen.
“Grandmother,” Jamila says, her voice chiding now.
“That is all I will say on that subject. What was spoken remains between me, him, and the dead. Please, let’s move on to a nicer topic. Like eating more of these donuts. Or perhaps finding a husband for Jamila.”
“Grandmother,” she groans, looking up at the ceiling. “I never should’ve come here.”
I can’t help but laugh.
The absurdity of the situation isn’t lost on me. I show up here, only moments after Nolan came through to talk with the matriarch of the family he destroyed, to offer apologies, condolences, explanations, I don’t even know.
But he talked about me. And it sounds like he explained to Jamila’s grandmother that he loves me, and maybe he even gave her a good sense of our situation together. It’s strange, bizarre even, and I don’t know what to do with it.
Fortunately, Jamila’s grandmother is easy to talk with. She laughs a lot, loudly and deeply, and asks a lot of questions. Especially about Jamila’s love life, which seems to be her favorite topic in the world.
“You know, when Jamila here was a young girl, she brought a boy home from school. A handsome young white boy.”
“Grandmother, it doesn’t matter that he was white,” Jamila says, wagging a finger.
But Grandmother only shrugs. “He was so uncomfortable at first. Can you imagine? Growing up in your suburb, surrounded by people like you, only to be thrown into this big, strange family?” She laughs, delighted. “He was a nice boy though. I did like him. Whatever happened? What was his name?”
“Brian,” Jamila says. “We broke up. It was nothing, just a silly teenage crush.”
“Ah, Brian. He made a point to greet every single aunt and uncle every time he came over. I liked that about him.”
“Has Jamila ever brought anyone else home?” I ask, unable to help myself. Jamila hasn’t dated much since I’ve known her, and she keeps her romances close to her chest.
Grandmother snorts. “No, never. She’s selfish with her life now. Hides things from the rest of us.”
“Because you gossip about me like I’m a Kardashian.”
“What’s a Kardashian?” The old woman winks at me. “Jamila thinks she is more interesting than she really is.”
“Grandmother.” Jamila groans. “That’s not true.”
“Truth is, my lovely granddaughter, you need to settle down. Life is so much better with a partner and a family. This world is hard enough, why make it even harder trying to do things all alone? Find a man that makes you happy. Or a girl, whatever you’re into.”
Jamila laughs, tutting at her grandmother, and I lean back to study their dynamic. I can’t help but think the old woman’s aiming some of her little speech toward me, like she knows I’m pregnant and I’m on the fence about whether I want the child’s husband to be involved.
But after an hour or so, we finish our tea and say goodbye. “Leave the donuts with me,” Grandmother says, rubbing her hands together. “And don’t tell my sons and daughters you brought them.”
“I won’t.” Jamila kisses her cheek. “I’ll come back again in a few days, okay?”
“Please do, dear.”
I give her grandmother a quick hug. “It was very nice meeting you.”
“And you as well. I wish you the best of luck with your Crowley problem. We all know how difficult that family can be.”
We leave, heading down the stoop together, walking arm in arm. Jamila doesn’t talk for a while, and I’m content with the silence. It’s a nice day, the sun is shining, the breeze is blowing, and I want to pretend like I’m a normal person again out for a stroll with my best friend.
But that can’t last, of course.
“Why do you think he was there?” Jamila sounds distant, like she barely knows I’m still standing next to her.
“I’m not sure,” I admit. “But it has to do with me.”
“He can’t think talking to my grandmother fixes anything.” Her expression darkens. “She’s an old woman. If she were younger, had more energy, she would’ve thrown him out on his face.”
