"That's…quite true." Rosa looked at her properly for what felt like a long time. Something was different. No, something had crept up and become something she was only just noticing.Maturity?
“How about you? Anyone on the horizon?” Billy asked.
A faint blush smothered Rosa’s cheeks and she turned back to the mugs. “No, I…I’m not really looking right now…too much on, you know?”
“Yeah, might take a break from it myself.”
Silence filled the space—something Billy was usually more than comfortable with—let a conversation end where it was supposed to. But right now, she didn’t want it to end.
"So…Imogen turning sixteen…who'd have thought?" Billy said, sitting more comfortably in her chair. Jean-covered legs splayed as she took up space.
"Yes, imagine that—a baby growing into a teenager," Rosa snarked. She poured the water from the kettle into two mugs. "She's growing up too fast." Her voice softened. "She mentioned the party your parents want to throw."
"Ah, yeah, Mum kind of thought that , it might be nice to have a party there with all her friends. And they don’t see her as often as they’d like to."
"Not really a surprise. It's a long way to go to visit."
"A couple of hours on a plane. It's doable," Billy said. "I'd like to take her more often if that's good with you."
“What friends?” Rosa narrowed her eyes at Billy. “She’s never mentioned friends over there.”
Billy shrugged. “I guess local kids.”
Rosa carried the two mugs to the table and put them down, pushing one in front of Billy. "I guess now she's older…it wouldn't hurt."
Billy grinned. "Really?"
"She's a sensible young woman, and your parents will be there, so…" She didn't add, “I don't have to be concerned with you falling apart anymore.”
Footsteps galloped down the stairs and Imogen flew into the kitchen on socked feet, gliding to a stop. "Billy, did you get me those trainers like you said?"
Billy blushed, glancing from Imogen to Rosa and back again. "I…yes, they're at my place."
"Excellent." Imogen was off again, running up the stairs with just as much noise as she'd made coming down them.
"I thought we talked about this," Rosa said quietly. "You have to stop spoiling her."
"I'm not, I just—"
"You are," Rosa cut in firmly. "You're trying to make up for everything by letting her have whatever she wants. That's not who we wanted to be."
Billy let the words sink in. ‘…who we wanted to be.’
"It's just a pair of shoes she needed."
"Like the pair she got at Christmas a couple of weeks ago?" Rosa's brows arched. "And it's her birthday in a few weeks. I suppose there’ll be more presents shejustneeded?"
Billy let out a sigh. "Mum really wants you to come to the party."
"It's not really appropriate, is it?"
"Why not? We are her parents. Her friends will be there. It's not like we're going as a couple." Billy laughed. "Just think about it, for Imogen. It's all paid for—flights, accommodation…"
"I'll think about it," Rosa said quietly.
The loud galloping down the stairs meant they both turned to watch the kitchen door for Imogen's imminent arrival.
"She wants us both there. We should put our differences aside, right?"
