#PastelPrincess

Chapter Four

“Mama! I’m home!”

“Lorianna! Anna!” she calls from the back.

Door locked, boots off, I make my way down the little hall in the center of the townhouse. Coming into the kitchen via the eat-in nook, I drop my bag into the cushioned bench of the bay window. Standing taller than me with wide shoulders and a sturdy build, creamy brown hair as unruly curly as mine, chocolate eyes, even though she’s just over forty she looks to be my sister. Wiping her hands on a fluffy kitchen handtowel, she smiles. “How was your day, iubit?”

I come over to kiss her cheek, “Well enough, Mama. I almost have my Juliet costume finished!” Scooting around her I go for a glass then to grab the apple juice from the fridge. “And what about yourself? Any luck finishing that chapter today?”

“Indeed! I was able to wrap that one up and start the next. I’m so close to finishing this installment….”

“You’re six months ahead of schedule,” I comment proudly.

She goes back to stirring the simmering pot on the stove. “What can I say? These characters are just so fun!”

There’s a lull and I fill my glass again. Easing around the table, next to my book bag, I breathe deeply. I notice Mama’s eyes come to my face thoughtfully, then she ever so nonchalantly says, “So… I had a call from Charlotte before you arrived.”

Hoping it has absolutely nothing to do with Christopher, I calmly ask “And what did Charlotte O’Crosphen have to say this time? Was it about this novel or is there another gala she insists we come?”

Studying me, Mama holds the wooden spoon still in her sauce. There’s laughter in her voice when she replies, “Really Anna? Are you going to make me wait until tomorrow night when your social media blows up about the date you have with Christopher?”

I slump against the bench’s back cushion, “Seriously, Mama, it’s nothing.”

“Nothing? A date with a boy is not nothing. Especially since it’s been over a year since you’ve had a date at all. And a date with a boy you used to be friends with… that is a big something, I’d say.”

Pointing a finger, I emphasized “‘Used to’. Used to be friends with.”

She rolls her eyes with a smile and goes back to cooking dinner, “Really, Anna, Charlotte and I don’t understand why you two stopped being such good friends. She had to overhear Christopher telling Jameson that he quote – finally – has a date with you. You know as well as I do that one of the reasons we settled on Massachusetts was because of the O’Crosphens. You two used to be inseparable….”

Her glance is soft, her eyebrows lifted ever so slightly. It’s the same look she’s given me since I declared he was no longer my friend those years ago… the same look that asks ‘why don’t you just explain why’ but never works. Her blood is the Romani blood and if she found out the son of her best friend called me a ‘gypsy scum’? She’d be absolutely crushed. Momentarily giving up, she turns back to the food, “Nicolae is rather pleased with this change. He said it’s good to let the past go and move forward….”

Pursing my lips a little I start pulling out homework. “Now, is that King Papa, Prime Minister Papa, or father Papa?”

A pet peeve of hers, she throws a look, “Does it matter?”

Pulling up my legs and crossing them, I tuck my feet against my thighs. “No, Mama, of course not. It was just a joke…” I add for safety.

“Your Papa may wear many hats when it comes to work or even this family, but that doesn’t ever mean he doesn’t have your best interest at heart. Now,” she slides a small plate of papanasi in front of me, “eat your snack and finish your homework for tonight. As for tomorrow, I’m sure your better halves will want to come over to do whatever it is teenagers do to prepare for a date. Text them that I’ll have their favorite, salata de boeuf, ready for them for lunch.”

“Yes, Mama.”

Her soft hand brushes down the length of my braid and her lips pressing against the top of my head. “Iubit, it is perfectly possible to forgive someone without forgetting what they’ve done. You both were children, Anna… you still are – you both have plenty of room to grow. He’d not a bad seed, I promise.”

I simply nod, knowing that arguing more would mean I’d have to explain what actually happened. And not just that he called me such a derogatory name but what it was in response to and that he’s also never apologized. It isn’t worth it. Not then, not now…. Rest of Junior year, Senior year, then Christopher and I will probably only have to ever see each other a galas and the like… places where it’s easy to be civil and spend those few hours with a room of distance between us.