“Doesn’t he have his own flat in the city, though?” I asked.
“Oh, yes, he does, but he comes here most evenings for dinner. He doesn’t like eating alone.”
Right. I remembered him mentioning something about that. “Well, I can’t blame him. Your cooking is delicious.”
“At my age, I’ve certainly had time to perfect it,” Phil said.
“Very true,” I replied. “A woman in her, what, late-forties could definitely gain the experience to be an excellent cook.”
Phil gave a hoot of laughter as she nudged Rosie. “She’s a charmer, this one. I can see why Neil is so fond.”
Her statement ignited a warm glow inside me. It started as a tiny flicker but quickly spread to encapsulate my entire body. Neil often acted like he reluctantly put up with my friendship, but he’d obviously spoken highly of me to his grandma if she thought he was fond of me.
While Billy, Rosie, and Phil chatted about how the book club had gone, I pulled out my phone again and found another text from Neil.
Neil: What’s happening? You haven’t said anything weird to my grandmother, have you?
Afric: Would you stop. Phil loves me already. She said I was a charmer.
Neil: She’s obviously getting on in years and losing her sense of proper judgement.
Afric: The cheek! The insolence! The gall! Your grandma’s judgement is perfectly fine. I am incredibly charming. She also mentioned understanding why YOU are so fond of ME. I’m feeling rather touched, to be honest.
Neil: Again, her judgement is declining. Poor woman. She’s clearly mistaking reluctant friendship for fondness.
Afric: If you don’t admit you’re fond of me right this moment I’m going to show these texts to Phil.
Neil: FINE! I’m fond of you. Now shut up about it.
Afric: Don’t be so embarrassed. I’m fond of you, too … Kind of how a person gets fond of the mangey dog that follows them around every day :-P
Neil: Funny.
Afric: Phil’s cooking is amazing, btw. She’s also given Billy and me an open invitation to come for dinner anytime, so get ready for me gate-crashing your nightly dinners when you get back from New York.
Neil: You will not. I’ll barricade the door … out of curiosity, what did she cook today?
Afric: Chicken, homemade gravy, roast potatoes, carrots, and green beans. I’m happily stuffed to the gills.
Neil: God, I’m jealous. I’ve been getting really sick of room service and eating out.
Afric: Aw, poor baby, having to tolerate living in a five-star hotel with freshly prepared meals just a phone call away.
Neil: Piss off. You know what I meant.
***
I didn’t manage to bring up the topic of Neil’s baby pictures that evening, but I had every intention of doing it next time. I thoroughly enjoyed getting to know Phil and Rosie, and it was surprising because I wasn’t always such a sociable person. In fact, I often went through phases of barely leaving my flat, especially if I was deep into a gaming marathon.
I’d sit by my computer morning, noon and night, ordering in food and constantly streaming to my growing audience of fans. By no means was I someone who made a ton of money from streaming, but I made a liveable wage, which was enough to pay for rent, groceries, and utility bills, plus a little extra.
The little extra usually went towards my penchant for buying expensive clothes. Whenever I got a big payout, I went on an online shopping spree from my favourite designers. I was particularly fond of oversized, boldly coloured jumpers paired with equally boldly coloured leggings that cost an arm and a leg.
My favourite items, though, were what I called the “Emperor’s New Clothes” pieces. I loved it when designers created clothing that looked kind of ridiculous, but because it came from a lauded brand, everyone acted like it looked amazing. There was a dissonance that appealed to me, an ugly/beautiful aspect to those items that always drew me to buy them. Neil had been scolding me for said purchases while he’d worked on my accounts, but I couldn’t help it. They brought me joy.
Speaking of Neil, over the course of several weeks, our friendship fell into a regular pattern of nightly video calls. We’d finished several great period dramas together, and I was constantly on the lookout for new ones I thought we’d both enjoy. I loved how much of a romantic he was and sometimes suspected he enjoyed the intimate parts of the shows even more than I did.
Intermingled with the nightly calls were daily text messages where we chatted about all manner of subjects. If a random thought crossed my mind, I always knew I could text Neil about it. And okay, often, these random thoughts annoyed him, which was an activity that entertained me immensely.
Afric: I have a question.
Neil: Okay.
Afric: wHY iS iT iNfiniteLy mOre dIsturBing wHen yOu caPitalise rAndom lEtterS iN a sEnteCe?