Little Demon

Anne

So, we were expecting detective questions being thrown loudly at Vincent from the opposite couch. This is because Joan abhorred going close to strangers or having any body contact. But that wasn’t happening. Our baby was seated comfortably on his laps while they discussed animatedly. She would giggle by something he said, and he would in turn throw his head back and laugh. It was so natural. One might think they’ve known each other for years.

“Can I marry him?” Makayla pleaded in a whisper. We both snickered, covering our mouths so we wouldn’t be found out.

When I looked back at him, a smile slowly crept onto my face. I was mesmerized by him. I was weirdly proud like a mother whose son was helping an old woman cross the street. My mum had her hands which held the kitchen towel, clasped against her bosom. She was also smiling. I knew by now, she had already begun planning my wedding, and sourcing out Christian names for my children. I wouldn’t put that past her.

After fifteen