“I did it.” I swung back to Aranare.
He nodded.
Morgana giggled. “Yvonne... Yvonne. Do you have any of that wine for me?”
“In the fridge, love. Boy, are you bonnie. Just look at those green eyes. I bet the boys go daft for you.” Mom cackled, and Morgana laughed with her.
“What the fuck?” I mouthed at Aranare.
“It must have worked on Morgana as well. She’s terrible at shields,” Aranare choked out. “Oh, this is going to be good.”
Morgana came swooping back into the room carrying a glass of the yellow wine in one hand and the box in the other. “I feel like dancing, don’t you feel like dancing, Yvonne?” She pulled my mother off the couch, and they started twirling around the living room.
“You’ve got this,” Aranare whispered. “Control the situation.”
“Mom, Morgana... I think it would bereallyfun if you both sat down.”
“Yes.” Morgana grinned at me, eyes wide. “I love this couch.” She threw herself down where Aranare had been sitting, and Mom slipped back into her seat, plucking a fresh smoke from the pack on the table.
“Mom, tell me about my dad, myrealdad.” I turned to her.
“Oh yes, Ilovea love story,” Morgana crooned, caressing one of the threadbare cushions as she surveyed my mother.
“Oh, you lassies.” Mom placed the cigarette between her clumsily painted lips.
“Here, let me.” Morgana lit it for her.
“He was a bonnie lad, just like that one.” She nodded at Aranare. “I was at the Port House one Friday night with Suze when he walked in. The way that man commanded a room, if you know what I mean...” Mom winked, and Morgana let out a high-pitched giggle, nodding along with the story while slinging back chardonnay.
“I could tell he wasn’t from around here,” my mother continued. “He was taller than any of our men; he had ebony curls, dark stubble on his shapely chin, and green eyes. Every woman in the bar stopped to watch him, from the oldest fish wives to the teenagers playing pool. But...” Shepaused for dramatic effect. “He took his drink, and he came over tome. ‘Omorfi,’ he said as he took me in. ‘My name is Vasileios.’ His accent was thick and foreign. He held out his hand to me, and I didn’t think once of your pa as I took it. I could only see him.”
“See, not her fault,” Aranare whispered.
My teeth remained gritted.
“Then what happened?” Morgana hiccuped.
“He led me into the night, and we made love under the stars.”
“Made love? Please.” I scoffed.
“It’s true.” My mother nodded, taking a long draw on her cigarette and exhaling the smoke. “He knew his way around a woman’s body in a way your father didn’t.”
“Ugh, too much information!”
Morgana giggled. “I hear you, girl.”
I threw her an exasperated stare, and Aranare snorted a laugh at my side.
“He ruined me after that. No lad could ever love me the same.” My mother shook her head and held her hands apart, indicating size, while Morgana clapped her hands over her mouth in shock.
“I think I’ve heard enough.” I turned sharply to Aranare, closing the distance between us. He stepped back, catching my forearms gently in his palms.
He nodded at the scene unravelling before me. “Just clap your hands.”
“Skye! I love your mom.” Morgana took my mother’s hands and held both of them at her chest, as if they had been friends for years.
I clapped my hands.
