Page 25 of Give & Take

“I did.” I settle onto one of the bar chairs. “I spent a lot of it reading the Bloor Family Encyclopedia.”

Lana’s eyes narrow slightly.

After the call last week, she said she’d email me ‘the basics’. The attachment was a 68-page document containing not only instructions to everything in the house and to do with the kids and their activities, but a laundry list of every conceivable thing that could go wrong with either child, and every number in the book. It kind ofisa book.

“I particularly liked the part where you included the number for the FBI,” I say, resting my forearms on the island, my fingers linked.

She snaps her gaze to mine. “You’re American.”

“We’re in Canada,” I say. “Not judging, just saying.”

She returns to packing her bag. “It’s in the Appendix. The ‘unlikely to need but good to have’ portion of the document.”

I work hard to suppress my smile. The thing was better organized than most textbooks. “Well I read the whole thing. Cover to cover. Including the appendices.”

She casts me a quick glare. It’s like a parry. “Any questions?”

“How serious are you about the animated movie rule?”

She frowns. “There’s no rule.”

“You said the kids don’t watch them. Are they not allowed?”

“No. We just don’t watch them.”

I lean back in the bar chair, folding my arms. I study her for a moment, the way her hands wrap around eachobject she handles with care and precision, fitting them just so. She’s deliberate, in all her actions. The decision not to watch those movies is deliberate too.

“You know there’s a lot to parse in those stories,” I say.

When her eyes go to me, I glance over at the kids, who are squatted over the bag, making a science out of the challenge I’ve given them.

“Absent mother figures, fulfillment via romantic entanglements. They’re the perfect jumping-off points for discussions on societal expectations for girls. Also big-picture concepts like good and evil as a concept; risk and reward.”

“I never said they’re not allowed!” Lana says again.

I shrug. “I like watching them unparsed, too.”

She frowns. “What does that mean?”

“That means for fun, Lana. I know you’ve heard of it.”

Her nostrils flare as she glances at me, then away.

I chuckle. I could write poetry about that look. A whole epic. I’d call it…Ode to a Quiet Maelstrom.

Lana props her hands on her hips. “Do you always do this, Raphael? Or is it just with me?”

“Do what?”

Her face says ‘aggravate’.

I grin. “I like doing it with you. You have the best reactions.”

She pinches her lips together, then releases them. It’s mesmerizing.

“What about classics likeFlashdanceorDirty Dancing?”

I didn’t know the sound of a bag zipping up could be weaponized, but she manages it. “I have to go.”

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