Page 49 of Anyone But the Superstar

I know the exact moment she sees my mother on the screen because the skin under the water droplets pinks in embarrassment.

‘Uh, hello.’

‘Who are you?’ My mother’s voice is laced with a tone I only ever heard her use when, in my teenage stupidity, I thought I was entitled to an opinion on how I should be raised.

It’s enough to break my sudden fascination with water droplets. ‘Mãe, this is my roommate, Anne Moore.’ Turning to Anne, I gesture to my phone. ‘Anne, this is my mother, Sofia Maria Santos-Jones.’

Anne’s hand, probably from shock, loosens, her towel sliding down an inch.

‘You have a roommate,coração?’ My mother’s eyes drop to the corner of the screen as if trying to see Mike. ‘With agato?’ She seems more incredulous over the last, even though I’ve never shared a room with anyone on set before. Even Jack gets his own place when he visits.

‘Sim.’ I nod firmly, determined not to deceive her any more than all the lies of omission I’ve made over the past few weeks.

‘Jack didn’t mention a roommate,’ my mother murmurs, her eyes as fixated on Anne’s face as mine are on her towel. ‘Or a cat.’

‘Don’t worry.’ Anne drops her hand from my shoulder and squares up to the phone. ‘I’m usually good about keeping him away from your son, knowing his fear of house cats.’

My mother lets out an indelicate snort. ‘He told you about Fluffy?’

Anne bites down hard on her bottom lip.

Kill me now.

‘He told me about the, uh—’ she studiously avoids my eyes ‘—cat who scratched him, yes.’

Adding to my embarrassment, Mike decides to groom himself, loudly, at my feet.

I can only hope my phone’s audio isn’t able to pick up on the slurping.

Anne tugs her towel up. ‘His name is Mike, by the way. The cat.’ She grimaces, looking down at herself. ‘And, uh, sorry for the towel.’

My mother smiles and nods, having seemingly become charmed by Anne.

A feeling I know well.

There’s a beat of slurping awkwardness I rush to fill. ‘Anne’s the one who got me to cook again.’

‘Did you?’Mãe’s expression brightens.

Mike stops licking. I don’t have time to be thankful since he only does so to jump up on my chair’s armrest.

Anne smiles and shakes her head. ‘That was the cost of your son staying here.’ Seeing Mike reach out his paw toward me, she scoops him up with the hand not holding her towel. ‘And I’m lucky your son is such a great cook. I’m definitely getting the better end of the deal.’

I can’t help but smile at the compliment.

Seeing my pleased expression, Anne rolls her eyes. ‘In fact, I told him he’d make a better cook than actor.’

My mother chuckles, a sound I haven’t heard near enough lately. ‘And you, Anne? What do you do?’

Anne adjusts her hold on Mike, whose back legs dangle at her side. ‘I’m interning as a storyboarder as part of my master’s degree in digital art.’

‘Master’s degree?’ She cuts her eyes to me. ‘Impressive.’

Anne flushes.

‘Mãe…’ It’s a Hail Mary attempt to curb my mother’s blatant interest. If Sofia Maria Santos-Jones wants to look at Anne as a potential future daughter-in-law, I can’t stop her. The best I can do is pray for subtlety.

‘Is that how you two met?’ Mother leans into the camera. ‘On set?’