Page 56 of I Can't Even Think Straight

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candles, and compartments of gemstones.

Sunday on Mum’s market stall

is our only regular

mum-and-son quality time.

Two of the customers

standing and gawking

are Jenny and Obi from bouldering.

“Hey, Obi,” I say, even though

I’ve known Jenny far longer.

Obi is holding a loop of jade pendant,

which is one of Mum’s bestsellers.

She has dozens in a box under

the white sheet and trestle table,

but she only puts out two at a time.

“Hi, Kai,” says Obi. “You know Jenny?”

“Hi, Kai,” says Jenny. Unreadable.

I turn to Mum. “This is Jenny and Obi,

I know them both from bouldering.

This is my mum, Irína.”

“Shut up!” Jenny gasps at this revelation.

“You’re Kai’s mum? You look so young!”

“Well, I had him young,”

says Mum truthfully.

“Everything on your stall

is so beautiful,” says Obi.

A part of me thinks

he’s flirting with Mum.

A part of me thinks

he’s flirting with me.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Mum says to him.

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