Page 35 of Ship of Fools

Yeah, I’m a still a Germano alright.“Just happy.” I say back, as she rolls her eyes at me. “Where’s my boyfriend?”

“Changing Bob’s nappy. He’s like a bloody Mary Poppins around here, and I think you are mean not letting me keep him here overnight. I mean, he could sleep in my bed, and I could have a night off.”

“Fuck off.” I snort at her. “He’s mine, go get your own.”

She laughs and sticks her tongue out at me.

I stick my tongue out right back at her.

I’m happy, and it’s no longer a strange emotion to feel.

I have spent hours and hours dissecting what happened with Connor, and Andreas has patiently let me cry it all out.

“You were young, he was a dick and things were shit.”Was my boyfriend’s summary of the relationship that crushed my youth. In a way it made me laugh, because of course he is totally right. I let it consume me, and I suppose it made me who I am.“And then you met me, and things were not shit anymore.”

My boyfriend is a lost cause in the world of car sales, because clearly, he should have become a world-renowned psychiatrist. He’s made me feel better about myself in a few months than I felt after years of therapy. I suppose that is finding love. Being yourself. And having a family that will support you, no matter what.

It still doesn’t explain why I turn into a monster in bed, but my boyfriend just laughs at me and tells me my monster alter ego turns him on andmakes him come, so why am I complaining?

I suppose what I am trying to say is that Andreas makes my life simple. He takes the things that used to overwhelm me and turn them into little truths. That’s his superpower, I tell him. He says mine is my monster dick.

We’re not adults. We’re fools.

But we are happy fools, I think, as we all take our seats around the table, Andreas strapping Baby Bob into his highchair as our favourite little Germano screams and throws his dummy into the salad bowl.

“You know you can bring a drink if you want one, we don’t mind.” My mum says, pouring Andreas a glass of water.

“I don’t need alcohol, Mama.” he replies with a smile. “You don’t drink, so I don’t drink.”

“It’s just…” Mum starts, as Andreas cuts her off.

“We are Germanos.” He says. “Pass the dressing, please, will you?”

I’ve never felt the need to explain it all. Andreas just takes life in its stride. Mum? She loves us all whatever the weather, and Dad scoops up big sloppy spoonful’s of steaming hot lasagne onto our plates, as Bea moans about the lack of ketchup on the table, and I sneak in a quick kiss on my boyfriend's cheek.

“No public displays of affection at the dinner table.” Bea snorts. “There is a poor innocent infant in the room.”

“You’re just jealous, Baby Mama.” My boyfriend laughs.

“You couldn't handle me, if you tried.”

“Thank God for that.”

“Children, can we just eat? Look Bob is getting upset, Bea, where is his dummy?”

“Where’s the dressing?”

“Dad, pass the salt.”

We’re home.

I remember what my Nonna used to say, that as long as you have your family, you can overcome anything. I suppose that’s true.

Andreas has his family too, and we are going to visit them in December. Not for Christmas, because I couldn’t imagine spending Christmas anywhere but here. Andreas says we are going to have a weekend break and go to the beach, and have a civilised lunch with his parents, and he will show me all around the island. Then we’ll come back here for Christmas Eve, and we are apparently going to re-enact our first date, and he’s already got a scenario all laid out in his head. I have no idea what he’s planning, but I’m sure I will like it.

I always do. Because, he knows what I like. I know what he likes too.

He likes me, and that’s what makes me wake up with a smile on my face, every morning. And I like him back, despite usually finding him stuck to my overheated body like a small sweaty limpet. He likes that I wear too many clothes at home, because I feel the cold. I like that he’s almost always naked. He likes that I bought some bedside tables. I like that he bought us a ridiculously overpriced coffee table and that he moved all my kitchen stuff around, so I can’t find a thing in my own home. I even liked the day he came over with everything he owned neatly packed into his car. He didn’t even ask, just moved in.

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