I’m fairly sure Jenna, Maeve and I all shudder in unison while Dad freezes and goes very pale.
I shake the words and potential visuals out of my head. “How do you even know this, Ma?”
“Maeve asked me to record some video of her, in the nice golden minute light.”
“Golden hour, Ma.” Maeve rolls her eyes.
“And I was doing that when this notification popped up with half a message showing and it was... it was smut.”
“Nothing wrong with a bit of smut,” I hear Jenna say and I can't help my chest from tightening. I love her sex-positive attitude, but it would be helpful if it had a filter when I'm trying to establish if my sister is at risk of a sexual predator.
“I mean, when it's consensual and safe. Research shows people who read erotica-” Jenna continues.
“Are you really saying this in front of my parents?” I turn to look at her and the playful spark in her eyes makes me drop the stern stare I was trying to give her and just laugh instead.
“I think your mum can cope with it,” she says, taking a sip from her drink.
“I can indeed,” Mum says reaching for her glass. “What that man said was nothing I haven't read before. It was almost tame, in fact, compared to what I’ve read.”
Maeve and I both sigh together, practically in a melody. I turn to Dad.
“Don't look at me!” He holds his hands up.
“God, no, if it's not a crossword answer, your father's not writing it. I'm talking about the books I read. They're often described as smut.”
“Oh, you like erotic romance?” Jenna stretches towards my mother. “Who are your favourite authors?”
“Well, I'm quite partial to...”
And this is precisely my prompt to push my chair back, which I do, saying, “I'm just going to the little boys' room.” I walk away as my mother and Jennacontinue to share author recommendations and book names, and did I really just hear the words “kitchen counter cunnilingus” leave my mother's mouth?
When I'm done in the bathroom, I find myself slowing my pace as I cross the entrance to the kitchen. I can almost feel the energy emanating from it, feel the heat of the chaos I know is inside, and sense the weight of the pressure. It reminds me of how challenging cheffing is, and how the harder it is, the more rewarding it can be. I've always been someone drawn to risk, and that's something I get to play around with every night in a restaurant kitchen when there are always deadlines, always things out of your control, and always multiple things to think about at any one time. But now, glancing back at our dinner table and seeing my mother and Jenna's heads practically touching as they look at something on one of their phones together, I realise I'm a risk-taker with my heart too.
First, Arnie with our friendship that our relationship could have nuked had it all gone wrong.
And now, Jenna. The risk is massive - she is older, she lives in a different country, she may well decide she wants an older, more successful and more financially-independent partner - and the stakes are high, but the reward - having her, holding her, loving her and having her love me - it's undeniably worth it.
With this thought erasing all others, I walk around the outside of the seating area and find a spot at the walled viewing platform that gives a slightly different view of the sunset to the one in the beach bar or Jenna’s villa. From this more elevated position it feels a bit more like I’m eye-to-eye with the sun and the effervescent copper glow it casts across the sky. Our table in the restaurant isn't going to let me see the sunset’s final minutes, but from here I can see it all, all the while warmed by the sun’s buttery glow. I sit sideways on the wall, and watch.
For the second time that day I feel almost paralysed with the hopeless desire to have Arnie there with me. This thought is not out of the ordinary, but the reason I want him there possibly is. I want him there to ask his advice. How do I tell Jenna how I really feel? How do I find out if she wants to also give this a go after this week? How do I tell someone I've known for only three days that I think I'm falling in love with her?
As ridiculous as it sounds, considering who he was to me, I know that Arnie would know. He would know how to do all of that.
Arms wrap around my chest and a warmth presses against my back.
“Hey,” I say as I lean back against Jenna.
“You're not wearing your sunglasses,” she says.
“I'm not looking directly at it.”
“But then you won't be able to look for the green light.”
“You know,” I say. “I think you can believe something is there, even if you don't see it.”
“That was profound, Aiden,” she says after a few seconds.
“What the fuck are you doing calling me Aiden?”
