The Art of Starting Over

Chapter 37 - Refusing Coffee is a Sin

The smell of Nanna's cooking greets me as soon as I open the door. It's almost eight o'clock. Keith will be here in fifteen minutes. I swallow my butterflies and will them to stay put. They've been going mad in my stomach since ten o'clock this morning when Keith agreed to come over and meet Nanna Millie.

I'm surprised Sosa didn't pick up on anything. I almost ordered double the stock we need from one agent and half of what we need from another. Luckily, Sosa realised before I sent in the order and fixed everything. She didn't even ask what was wrong, probably putting it down to the 'new developments' with Millie, which of course, are also weighing heavily on me. But I need to accept this. There's nothing I can do except support her, and I can't do that if I'm a heap of blubber, which is exactly what I become whenever I think about it.

"What are you cooking? It smells amazing in here!"

I take a clean dishcloth and start drying up the washed pots and pans. Millie looks happy. Like her usual self. Like nothing is wrong with her. And I don't know if that's good or bad but if nothing else, seeing her in her element, in the middle of her sunny, music-filled kitchen, feels right.

"I should hope so," she claims excitedly. "I want to make a good impression! Leave those. I'll dry them. You go get ready."

I laugh nervously and put the dishcloth back on the counter. "Don't make a fuss, this isn't a big deal," I say, ignoring the fact that my stomach is somersaulting all over my abdomen.

"Of course, it is! Your first boyfriend is coming over for dinner!"

"He's not my boyfriend!" I protest.

She raises her eyebrows at me unimpressed. "Then, why is he coming for dinner?"

"I have no idea," I reply teasingly. "I'm going to shower quickly and come right down."

My phone buzzes in my bag on my way up the stairs. I fish for it trying not to trip but not daring to stop because I'm so late already. It's Sosa. "Hey!" I answer.

"Hi," she replies sounding a little edgy. "Can we talk?"

I open the wardrobe and skim through my stuff, looking for something to wear. There is a breeze coming in from the window and it's almost chilly on my skin. The weather is slowly getting cooler as we finally reach the end of the scorching Maltese summer.

"Um. I'm a bit busy but yeah, I guess," I say getting out a yellow floral shirt and matching skirt and laying them out on the bed. They're not too wrinkled I think I can get away with not ironing them.

"Oh. Okay then, don't worry about it," she says trying to sound casual.

"Are you sure?" I ask. She doesn't sound too good.

Sosa hesitates. "Yes. Yes, mela! I'm okay, it's nothing."

I lay down on the floor, flat on my stomach and fish for a pair of brown flip-flops from under my bed. "Sosa, what's up?"

Got them!

I quickly fetch a towel from my dresser and head to the bathroom closing the window to shut out the sounds of the chaotic streets below. Someone is clearly enjoying the change in weather. There is folk music blaring and at least two men singing to it. I hear shouting and clapping and deduce they have an audience. Keith is going to think I live in a hovel. He is from a posh area in Attard and he's all the time teasing me about living in the 'Maltese Bronx.'

"Well," Sosa starts. The hesitation in her tone is worrying. "I don't know if you noticed last time but I think Shaun still has a thing for you."

Really? She wants to talk about Shaun now? Keith will be here in five minutes!