Page 17

Mali checks the cutlery is sparkling before placing it on the dining table, as if she’s expecting the king or something. The low murmur of the speaker does nothing to ease the nerves in her stomach. She’s never met a friend’s parent like this before, and she’s never had a friend like Zach. She wants it to go well. Zach is also nervous, and Mali can’t tell if it’s because he’s cooking, because he’s not going to pick his mum up, or that she’s coming here at all. So, it’s sort of more important than the king coming.

The dining table has rarely been used. It’s usually a place to store laundry baskets and things she should take upstairs but can’t be bothered to. Now, she’s glad she bought it from a charity shop. Her dad helped her sand and stain it, and she never wants to do either of those jobs again, but it’s signed underneath by her and him. That’s all that counts.

Zach took his jumper off to fan the smoke alarm— A good sear requires smoke, Mali —and now he’s just in a white vest, so obviously, Mali can’t look at him. She should scoff because vests are for toddlers and old men, but she can’t look in his direction lest she licks him, so he wouldn’t be able to hear it anyway. Earlier, Zach kept letting her taste the sauce, but the last time some got on her cheek, and he brushed it off with the pad of his finger, then Mali realised she couldn’t be near him anymore.

Mali has always been so sure that she’s not a sexual person. She’s had sex before (with one guy and one girl, at different times) and it was a fun, but she was in relationships with them. She’s not used to feeling raw sexual desire without the relationship. But every time she sees Zach, she’s three seconds away from asking him to bend her over. In fact, the only reason she hasn’t is because he would hate it. Zach’s taken enough girls home that she’d know if he wanted to take her upstairs.

Mali’s never been sure of what she feels for Zach. Friendship, she thinks, is something she wants with him. That and she finds him outrageously attractive. If she was a causal sex kind of girl, she would have asked him to fuck her ages ago. She’s not. She knows it would be a mistake to ask her new roommate to be not-quite-friends with benefits. She knows that, but the thought plagues her mind anyway.

She’s trying not to push it. The friendship part. So, she doesn’t ask him if he wants to watch a film with her, or if he wants to eat lunch at the same time. One: she might actually try to kiss him, and two: she knows if she asks, he’ll say no. Even with the smiles at the shop, it’s not subtle. The way he doesn’t want to sit with her in the evenings. The way he didn’t hug her back. The way he avoids looking at her now. So, she’ll be his sort-of friend, and she’ll ignore the way she wants him to fuck her through her mattress.

“I’m going to swap the washing over,” she says, when the table is laid. “Do you want a drink?” It feels weird to ask him questions when she has her back to him, but she knows she’ll get lost in the tightness of his abs if she turns around.

“Lemonade and orange juice, please, Mal. Mum will have the same.”

Mali switches the washing over and wonders if she could stay in here, in the dark, and fold it while she waits for his mum to turn up. Devon is bringing her, apparently. She hopes he does, because Zach has been looking at his phone every few minutes to check where she is. She also hopes Devon doesn’t come in. What if he tries to stay? Ugh. At least if she’s only acquaintances with Zach, she doesn’t need to know his entire family. She’s not even mad at Devon for being in her house anymore, but he actively makes Zach’s life harder, and that she’s allowed to not like him for.

The laundry room door opens, and Zach looks right at her. She feels like she’s been caught, but she’s not even doing anything wrong. The light from the kitchen shines behind him, keeping his face in shadow. His silhouette is dangerous. She wants to trace it with her fingers. She wants to ask him if he likes training arms or legs better, just because she wants to know something. She wants to ask him if he knows wearing a vest at the dinner table is bad etiquette. She wants to ask him what his favourite time of day is.

“Hey,” she says instead.

“Hey,” he replies. “Is the lemonade too high?”

“Oh. Probably.”

“You alright?” he asks, leaning up to grab it from the shelf. “If you’re overwhelmed or anything, we can cancel.”

“I don’t want to cancel,” she replies. She doesn’t tell him that she’s wondering how to be his friend. “I want lamb so bad, and I need to show your mum the photo from earlier.”

Zach looks concerned, but he doesn’t comment on it. He just says, “Thank you, for doing the washing.”

Mali smiles at him. “Don’t mention it.”

“I’m going to mention it,” he says, smiling.

She pushes his stomach to get him to turn around and leave, and almost snaps her fingers. “Why are you so hard?” she groans, and he laughs. She ducks her head, hoping the fact she didn’t turn the light on in here will hide the blush on her cheeks.

“Blame Frankie.”

“She’s always to blame,” she replies, realising all too late that she’s still touching him. She drops her hands. Zach opens his mouth, and she waits for his words. Will he tell her to stop touching him, or beg her to put her hands back? She’ll never know, because the doorbell rings.

Zach’s face lights up, and it makes her smile. She’s excited to see a part of him again, even if she had to force it to come out. She lets Zach greet his mum as she pours the orange juice and lemonade into a jug.

“Where’s De?”

“Oh, he’s with a friend,” Miriam replies. “This place is so cute already! You two have really made it work.” It’s Mali’s favourite thing when someone comes to her house and likes how it’s decorated, even if they’re possibly lying. (She desperately wants to replace her staircase spindles but the last quote she got was for like three grand, and what is she, minted?)

Mali doesn’t know if Miriam’s comment about the two of them was a slip of the tongue or if she has no idea who Mali and Zach are together (nothing), and it hurts deep in her chest. She feels horrible for Zach, never knowing if his mum is going to remember him when he turns up. God, Mali’s awful for wanting him to stay with her when she knows it might help if he and his mum lived together. She just wishes he’d get some time for himself. She doesn’t even know what he does with his spare time. He’s always in his room or in the kitchen on his phone, doing something. Next time he’s sitting there, she’s going to get the courage to ask him into the living room. Like a grown-up.

“But he dropped you off, right?” Zach asks, showing her into the kitchen.

“I grabbed a taxi. Hi!”

“Hi,” Mali replies, loud enough that it distracts from the way Zach’s chest drops to the ground. “Nice to see you again.”

“Oh, you too, sweetie,” Miriam says, pulling her into a hug. Zach looks like he’s about to break down, which is pretty much his standard face whenever she hears him talking to or about his brother.

“Would you like a tour?” Mali asks, then looks into the garden. “It’s not too dark, if you want to see how I’m killing every plant we own.”

“Oh, yes!” Miriam replies. “Let me grab my shoes.”

“My slides are by the back door, Ma.”

Mali waits for Miriam to put Zach’s slides on, then looks over at him. He looks conflicted, and Mali wants to help but she doesn’t know how, or even if she should.

“Zach,” she whispers, and he looks at her. “You’ve got like five minutes to decide what to do about Devon. Then we’ll just have a nice dinner, okay?”

He blinks a few times, then nods.

“See you soon.”

Miriam seems mostly impressed with the state of the garden, which brings Mali more joy than she thought, especially considering she moved in in the depths of winter and has been in the garden less than a handful of times.

“This area will bloom beautifully in summer,” Miriam states. “There’s some plants in there already, but you could add more.”

“I like peonies,” Mali replies, with a light shiver. “Will they work here?”

“Sure, but they take a few years to establish. If you under-planted something annual, you’d have colour while you waited.”

“I should have brought my phone for notes. Would you want to come to the garden centre with me? You could help me pick the right colours.”

“Yes!” Miriam says, with a little hop. “If we go this weekend, I have some vouchers.”

“We can get lunch. Have you seen the size of the scones they sell? It’s criminal.”

Miriam laughs. “Do you think Zach will live here long enough to see the peonies?”

Mali’s taken aback by the question, but the answer doesn’t come before she hears the doorbell ring. Her heart drops. The only person it’s likely to be is Devon, and she’s not sure how to have a polite conversation with him when he sold his mother’s washing machine and Zach’s face greys out whenever he’s mentioned.

“More guests?” Miriam asks, with a smile.

“I dunno. Let’s go see, because I think I’m cold to the bone. Maybe it’s Devon? The only people who ever turn up to my house are my parents, but they rarely knock or use the doorbell.”

When they get back in the house, Mali does, in fact, see her parents. Her dad is frozen, staring in awe at Zach, who is clearly trying to shake his hand, but it’s no use. Her mum walks around him with a scoff and pulls Zach into a hug.

“So good to meet you!”

Her dad finally snaps out of it. “Oh, good, yes. Very good. We are big fans.”

Zach smiles. A small blush comes to his cheeks, and Mali wishes she could take a photo without looking like a stalker loser.

“Mali has mentioned,” he replies, with a small laugh.

“Speak of the angel,” her dad says. “Hi, Mali-Ali.”

“Hey,” she replies, a small furrow to her brow. Why did they knock, and why are they here? Sure, usually they turn up and she throws the kettle on, but she has a guest right now.

“Sorry,” her mum says, looking sheepish. “We didn’t know you were entertaining! We just popped in to say hi, but we’ll catch you another day. Hi,” she says to Miriam. “I’m Zamina, and this is Mosi. It’s lovely to meet you.”

“Hi. I’m Miriam, Zachariah’s mum.”

Her dad gasps, like Mali thought he would.

“Have you eaten?” Zach asks.

“No, but we won’t intrude!”

“It’s not an intrusion. Please, sit,” Zach says.

Her parents need no further encouragement. Mali smiles and grabs a spare chair from the back room. She’s always wanted a large family, one that turns up out of the blue, and it’s not a big deal. This isn’t quite her family, not entirely, but it counts for right now. Zach and her dad pull the dining table more into the middle of the room while Miriam and her mum pour drinks. Smiling, Mali stands to the side and takes a photo… or twelve.

Zach brings a blanket from the living room. “Mal, is it okay to use these?”

“’Course,” she replies, and he drapes the blanket over his mum’s shoulders. Then he rounds the table and does the same for Mali. His fingers brush against her neck again, but she’s not sure why. She has no hair for him to untangle.

“The house is really cute, Mali,” Miriam says. “The garden too! What’s the building at the back for?”

“Thank you.” Mali smiles. “I have a list of things I want to do, but I’m pretty happy with it right now. The building I guess is like a big studio?”

“Didn’t we decide their son lived in it, Ali?” her dad asks. He’s hovering near Zach, waiting for a moment to ask for an autograph or accidentally touch him or something. The most unserious man.

“Darling,” her mum starts, waving her dad over. “Let Zach dish. You can interrogate him later.” Her dad frowns, but ultimately moves to sit down.

“What things do you want to do?” Zach asks, piling the serving dishes with food. He either didn’t notice her dad or didn’t mind. Or a secret third thing—he did notice and he’s pretending he didn’t mind.

“She has a list, Zachariah,” her mum starts.

“It’s just Zach, Mum,” she replies.

“Oops.”

“You can call me Zachariah, Mrs Okeye,” he says, and Mali frowns at him. He winks. “What’s on the list?”

“Oh, stop,” her mum says, with a laugh. “Just Zamina is fine.”

“The list is monumental,” her dad says. “We did the table together, didn’t we, chicken?” He wipes his hand over their handiwork. It’s not good by any means. They never managed to sand out the gauge her dad put in it with the chisel, but she loves it all the same.

“We did, and then we decided we’d pay professionals to do the big jobs.”

Her dad laughs. He’s not a builder—he’s a manager at a data firm. There have been times when he’s told her exactly what he does, but it sounds a lot like spreadsheets and acronyms. “That we did.”

Zach places the dishes in the centre, and there’s a collection of “Oh my god” and “This smells divine” and her father telling them “If he’s as good a cook as he is a rugby player, we’re in for a treat.”

“I can do it,” Zach replies as he sits down. “Just give me a list.”

“Zach is so good at handiwork, Mali,” Miriam chimes in. “And electrics too!”

Mali smiles. “I know. He fixed my fuse for me.”

“Such a clever boy,” Miriam says. Mali thinks she’s about a minute away from squishing his cheeks together. Zach smiles fondly at her, so he’d probably let her get away with it. “And so handsome too.”

Mali gasps. “Right? Oh my God, you guys, look at this photo I took earlier.”

“Stalker,” Zach grumbles.

Miriam taps him on the thigh and says, “Oh, shh. I never get photos of you.”

“Please,” Mali says, with a small squeal. “You have to see this.” She pulls her phone out and scrolls through her photos until she finds the one from this morning. (It takes her a while because Buffy was being silly cute on the windowsill earlier.) Eventually, Mali finds the photo she wants. She made sure she didn’t get the child’s face in her photo, because she’s not trying to be on any lists, and honestly, she only cares about Zach.

She tilts the phone to Miriam, who is so gleeful it’s contagious. As if Mali wasn’t already smiling. Her parents lean in, and Zach looks about as embarrassed as she thinks his face would allow him to look.

“Oh my,” Miriam says, her eyes welling up. Zach looks like Zach, but the happy version of Zach. “You’re such a good boy,” she says, the tears flowing.

“Ma,” Zach says with a fond groan as Miriam leans against him. “It’s just an autograph.”

“I’m always so proud of you. First a new team, then a new house, now this!”

“You’re so dramatic,” Zach replies with a smile. Mali wonders if she should tell her some of the other things Zach does, but the moment moves on.

“Speaking of autographs,” her dad says, as subtle as a bull in a china shop.

“Dad,” Mali groans.

“Mali-Ali, if I wait for you to get them all, I’ll be in my grave.”

“I got you Adebayo’s, didn’t I?” she replies, and Zach laughs.

“Ezra said yes?” He looks right at her, and it makes her heart trip.

“Well, he grunted, but I got two signed tops out of it.”

Zach smiles at his plate. “Well, my autograph isn’t as good as Ezra’s, but if I give you a top, you can pretend it is.”

Her dad claps his hands together. “Success.” He pulls out a small notepad from his back pocket and puts a tick next to the name Zach.

“Dad!”

He looks up at her. “Yes?”

She rolls her eyes. “Who else is on the list?”

“The whole team.”

“Oh my God.” She groans, but it’s far too fond. “You have to ask them yourself. Make it like a quest. They’ll all be there at the family game day. Stock up on sharpies.”

He writes “Buy sharpies” in his notepad.

“Wait, you can tick Kai,” Mali says. “He’ll give you a whole kit.”

“He will?” her mum asks, her brows high. Her mum has a thing for Kai, and she pretends she doesn’t because he’s young enough to be her son.

“Yeah. He’s the nicest one on the team.”

Zach grunts. “Can’t believe I’m being attacked in my own home. Mosi, are you seeing this?” Her dad lights up and leans closer to him to frown at Mali. It’s the cutest thing she’s ever seen. Mali tries not to overthink how he called her house his home.

“Mali-Ali, really?” her father says, disappointed.

“You’re both ridiculous! Kai is the nicest on the team; I just like Zach the most.”

Zach smiles. “You do?”

Mali rolls her eyes. “Not right now!”

Everyone laughs, and Mali smiles at her plate.

“If you send me a list of the things you want done around the house, I can get started this weekend.”

He’s not letting it go. Mali wonders if he’ll sign all his work. Horror runs through her veins at the thought of having to look at them when he’s moved out.

“If I send you a vague idea of what I want, can you figure out everything else? Or do I need to research tools? Dad, what tools do you have?”

“Loads! Don’t buy anything new.” That’s her parents’ favourite phrase. They’d give someone their own sofa if it meant that person didn’t have to buy something new.

Zach laughs. “Tell me what you want, and I’ll look at my tools, and your tools,” he says to her dad, “then I can buy anything else we need. Mosi, you wanna come to the hardware shop with me?”

“Yes,” he says automatically. “I’m free this weekend. Zam, I’m busy this weekend.”

She rolls her eyes. “I can’t believe I’m being pushed out of my marriage in real time.”

“Don’t worry, Zamina,” Miriam says. “Mali and I are going to the garden centre on Saturday. You can come with us.”

“You are?” Zach asks.

Mali nods. She’ll double-check with Zach when his mum leaves, but he can tag along if he doesn’t want her left alone with them.

“Yeah, the one on Chantry Lane,” Mali says to Zach. “I was going to ask to borrow your car, but you’ve abandoned me for Dad.”

“Do you have a licence?” he asks, as if she’s a criminal who would willingly endanger his mother.

“Obviously. This isn’t Grand Theft Auto.”

Zach laughs. “We can figure it out. I could drop you off.”

Mali rubs her plate clean with a slice of bread because she has little decorum when it comes to sauce. She shrugs as she answers. “We’ll figure it out.”

“I’ll drive,” her mum says. “If Zach and Mosi take one car, we can take the other.”

“Perfect!” Miriam says. “Are you local?”

“We live three roads over. We were ecstatic when this house went up for sale. We’d been waiting for one close by.”

Miriam nods her head in agreement. “I love having my boys close. I need to move soon, but I don’t think I’ll get somewhere close to here. My illness wiped out most of my savings.”

“I’m sorry,” her mum says, reaching her hand across the table. Miriam squeezes her fingers.

“Don’t be! I’m lucky I don’t have to be long distance with Zach and Devon where I am.”

“I don’t know what I’d do if Mali wanted to go far,” her mum says.

Mali smiles, scrunching up her nose. Zach looks at her with an expression she can’t place, which is most of his expressions. She rests her foot against his.

“Me either,” Mali says. “I would be awful with long distance, family and otherwise. I’d probably do it because I loved them, but I’d be miserable. It would be hell.”

“Well, you’re not allowed to move anyway,” her mum semi-jokes.

“What do you like to do for fun, Miriam?” her dad asks. “Do you go to the games?”

Miriam hums, thinking about it. Mali watches Zach watch her, like he’s unsure if she’s thinking or if it’s something deeper.

“I do love the games, but I used to love bingo. There’s something thrilling about never winning more than a fiver. I haven’t been in a while. I find it hard to make friends at this age, especially now I’m not working.”

“Erm, I’m your best friend,” Zach replies, and she tuts at him.

“Let’s go to bingo then.”

“Ma,” Zach whines, but Mali knows he’d go with her. “Everyone grabs my cheeks. I’m twenty-seven!”

“I love bingo,” Mali’s mum responds. “I go to the Crown every Thursday—oh, you should join me! Mosi usually entertains me there, but he doesn’t have the bingo gene. Do come, we can get Shirley Temples!”

“Please,” her dad says, his hands clasped in front of him. “Please go.”

“Oh, shush.”

Miriam laughs. “We can discuss at the weekend? Saturday?”

“Yes,” her mum replies. “Morning?”

Mali nods. “Miriam, I’ll steal your number from Zach’s phone, but he’ll use the details as an excuse to come and see you anyway.”

“I will,” Zach replies. Miriam smiles, her eyes noticeably heavier than they were earlier. It hasn’t been a long dinner, but her parents have the same look on their faces.

“This evening has been lovely, but I think I’m ready for bed. So many exciting plans! I need my beauty sleep,” Miriam says, with a small smile. “I’ll just pop to the loo.”

Mali smiles as Miriam goes upstairs, and her parents start clearing the table with military-style precision. She tells Zach to leave it when he tries to tell them he’ll do it later. As if. There’s an ache to her back, and a tiredness behind her eyes that comes from hosting, but overall, she’s happy.

“I’ll drop you home, Mum,” Zach says, when Miriam comes back downstairs. Mali can tell he doesn’t want her to go home, and she almost offers for her to stay, but she thinks that should be something he asks her in private. Miriam is nice, really nice, and Mali can tell where Zach gets his eyes and his humour. Mali doesn’t know her well enough to say she should live here, but she wishes she and Zach were friendly enough to suggest his mum living in the outbuilding. They could call it something cuter.

“Zachariah, I can get a taxi,” she grumbles, but Mali knows she knows Zach’s going to take her home.

“Uh-huh.”

“We’re off as well, Mali-Ali.”

“Thanks for coming,” she says, standing up.

“Thanks for the lovely dinner that we so rudely interrupted,” her dad says, and she kisses him on the cheek.

“You’re never rude.”

“Start spreading that around at your work so I can check off all the autographs on my list.”

There are hugs and scoffs and promises of seeing each other again. (Saturday, as Miriam reminds her again, and as her dad reminds Zach.) When Zach goes to close the door before driving his mum home, he looks over at Mali.

“Thank you.”

“Text me when you leave,” Mali says. “I’ll put the kettle on.”