Page 80

“Yes?”
“Thank you for telling me everything. Now, I’m going to need you to stay out of this, okay?”
“Okay,” Vera says meekly, though of course she means exactly zero percent of that. But she knows by now it’s useless to argue with Selena.
With a quick kiss (to Tilly, not Vera), Selena strides out of the house.
“Well,” Tilly says, “that sounded about as bad as it could sound.”
“Don’t you start,” Vera says, getting up and marching with renewed purpose into the kitchen.
“What are you doing?”
“Emma is coming here for sleepover. You think I let her go hungry?”
“It’s nine p.m., so I think she’s probably had dinner and will just go to sleep.”
“Aiya, you don’t know little children, they are always hungry. When you and Selena have children, I will cook nonstop for them.”
Tilly gives a resigned smile. “Yeah, I know, Ma.”
Vera has just finished making Chinese Rice Krispies (Rice Krispies Treats but with sesame seeds added to the mix) when Oliver, Julia, and Emma arrive. Emma is asleep in Julia’s arms.
“Vera,” Oliver says, “what happened to your head?”
“Oh, just a minor assault, no big deal.” She turns to greet Julia, but to her surprise, Julia looks kind of…annoyed.
“Hey,” Tilly says in a low voice to keep from waking Emma up. “You can put her in the guest bedroom.”
With a nod, Julia walks into the guest bedroom. Oliver and Tilly give each other a bro hug. Before Vera can say a word, the doorbell rings again. Tilly goes to answer it, and Vera says, “Wait! What if it’s bad man?”
“I don’t think he’d be ringing the bell,” Tilly says. Still, he looks through the peephole before opening the door.
Riki, Sana, and Adi file inside. “What’s happened?” Sana says, then gasps. “Oh, Vera! Your forehead!”
“Hey, Gran,” Adi says, giving Vera a hug. “What happened to your forehead?”
“Minor assault,” Vera says, quite enjoying saying those words now. “I had five stitches.”
“Assault?” Riki says.
Julia comes back to the living room, sans Emma, and glares at Vera. “I think you owe us an explanation.”
Vera gives her a sheepish smile, then says, “I make Chinese Rice Krispies.”
“Ooh, yes, please,” Sana says.
Julia shoots her a glare. “Do not try to bribe us with food, Vera. You need to tell us what the hell is going on.”
Vera deflates. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“Come on,” Tilly says. “Let’s all take a seat. This is going to be a long story.”
And so, over tea and Chinese Rice Krispies, Vera recounts the story for a second time that night. This audience is a far better one than the first, though, so this time, she really gets into the story, making dramatic pauses where needed and lowering her voice when she wants everyone to lean forward. They ooh and aah and gasp in shocked horror at the right moments, and none of them goes, “My god, Vera, what were you thinking?”
By the time she is done, Vera is pleased at their horrified expressions. Good storytelling, she thinks, is a lot harder than it looks, but she has obviously accomplished it.
“So, you were actually assaulted?” Julia says. “That wasn’t just you embellishing as usual?”