Page 22 of Sharkbait
“What? Who? I don’t know what you’re—”
She smiles. “Come on. Gimme the scoop, woman! What’s the story with you and James? You’ve been all sorts of jittery since he arrived.”
“I’m not jittery.”
She places a hand on my bouncing knee then smirks when it settles.
“I need a cracker.” I hoist myself from the couch and sidle next to Mabel at the counter, making her the delightful buffer between James and me while avoiding further inquisition from Calliope.
Two birds. One stone.
“A pro tip for you, James,” Mabel says as she assembles meats and cheese on the wooden board. “In the future, if you’re looking to compare yourself to a creature with incredible lung capabilities, what you really want to reference is a scorpion.”
“No way,” I interject mid-cracker bite. “Blue whales have the largest lung capacity in the world.”
“Well, yeah! Whales are massive. Theyshouldhave the largest lung capacity in the world. But a scorpion? A tiny little scorpion can hold its breath for six days. Nowthat’simpressive.”
“Agreed,” James says. “Hey Mabes, could you grab me some ice?
“You bet!”
Why am I so irritated by this easy rapport he has with Mabel?
Mabel moves to the freezer, leaving an open space between James and me at the kitchen island.
He immediately steps closer to me.
Or did I step closer to him?
I swear I can hear my own heart pounding.
Mabel continues to chatter away from the opposite side of the kitchen, totally oblivious to the tension between the two of us.
“Scorpions can also live a full year without food, they glow under ultraviolet light, and they perform one hell of a dancing ritual before they mate.”
“Thongs and pasties!” Calliope shouts from the couch. “That’s what we need to make Ralph’s birthday special!”
I nearly choke on my cracker.
We all stare at her in confusion.
Calliope explains, “Sorry. Mabel said dancing ritual, then I thought back to the nudity thing, and voilà, an idea was born!“
“You want to hirestrippersfor my brother’s party? No thank you.”
Calliope joins us at the kitchen island and pops a slice of cheese in her mouth.
“What’s up, prudey with the attitudey? A few minutes ago, you were all, ‘I grew up painting people in the nude. Naked bodies are no big deal.’”
“I am not a prude. And did you just mock me in a British accent? I don’t have a British accent.”
“True, but sometimes it feels like you should.”
“What?”
She shrugs. “You have this fancy, all-knowing vibe. You could totally be British.”
“She totally could!” Mabel plunks a bowl of ice cubes down on the counter in front of James. “Here ya go, buddy.”
