My abuela listed down all the ingredients which deserved to be cooked in a pot and eaten, but she recommended them as a remedy to put on my damaged hair in order to convert it into healthy hair. I glanced at Marta whose eyes were glinting in mischief from above the laptop. My abuela having caught our little exchange, justified, "Look at your cousin's hair, Mariana. So beautiful, isn't it? She took my tips seriously."

Marta nodded and I scrunched my nose at her when abuela wasn't looking. The baby finding my face funny burst out in a fit of gurgling laughter, making us all smile. Abuela got up from the comfy sofa with difficulty and went straight to pick up her grandson, cooing to him and calling him affectionate names. "He'll grow up to be smart and handsome. Mariana, did you know that your papá was handsome?"

I did know that, but I feigned surprise. "Really?"

"Yes, he had so many ladies after him. But he fell for your . . . " She shook her head regretfully, focusing her attention back on the clueless child.

"She got married again," I said and feeling the need to clarify, added, "My mother."

"Save the poor man who married her!"

"He's equally worse."

"Match made in hell, then?" She winked at me, making Marta and I laugh.

"I'll go cut the meat for lunch. Is it in the fridge?" I asked and she turned around, giving the jolly baby to me.

"You take care of little Juan. I'll go make lunch. You have been doing a lot of work here---"

"I don't mind---"

"Aye, shush, shush." She placed her wrinkled finger on her mouth and frowned. "If I don't work at my age, my bones will fall out."

"What are you saying, abuela?" Marta commented. "You're in in the prime of your life."

The soft baby in my arms began laughing, some spit spilling out of his tiny, puckered mouth as if understanding us and abuela placed her hands on her hips in mock hurt. "Juan has become too smart, huh."

The baby amazing all of us, clapped his tiny, cute hands.

Abuela couldn't resist playing with the boy again before she went to make lunch. I sat on the sofa next to Marta with her baby on my lap. I was wearing one of our cousin's hand-me-down olive green cardigan (I hoped Marta wouldn't recognize that it was second-hand from our own cousin) with golden buttons. The baby's eyes shone with a golden glint as he tried plucking the buttons.

I remembered the day when I realised of my feelings for Isaac, on Allison's birthday when we danced together in her lawn. That day we had played with a baby who had fisted Isaac's curls. Such random memories of him kept frequenting my mind among other things, all of which made me immensely sad.

"What happened to you? These past days with us hasn't been that enjoyable?" Marta asked, her gaze fixed on the excel sheets in front of her.

"No, it's not that---" Suddenly my phone rang, an unpleasant ringtone like that of a standard alarm clock's which I hadn't bothered to change. The baby flinched and started shedding tears faster than a waterfall. I cut the call quickly, it had been from Allison. 

Marta grabbed the baby from me, swiftly getting up and soothing him by patting him on the back and swaying. "I got him. You pick up your phone."

"It's alright, wasn't anyone important."

"I have to feed him anyway." She disappeared into the privacy of our shared bedroom.

The phone rang again, that annoying noise which made me pick it up. "Hey, Ally."

"WHERE DID YOU GO?" she shouted and before I had the opportunity to explain, she continued, "Your boyfriend told me that you went to your grandma's place."

"Well, there you go. You have your answer."

I felt myself smirk at her inability to form a coherent sentence. "Well, y-you . . . That's not the point!"

"No? Then tell me."

"You tell me! You never tell me anything these days!"

"I told you that I was going to move in with Isaac soon."

"Not that," she said, a bit irked. "You don't share much of your life with me. I think nobody knows you well, apart from that diary in which you write."

"See, you know that I keep a diary." I could hear her impatient intake of breath which made me giggle. "Okay, listen. I need to go now, Ally. My nephew is making a lot of fuss. I'll call you later, alright?"

"What? We barely talked---"

"I'll call you surely, bye!" I cut the call before she had the opportunity to rebuke me and sent a heart-warming picture of Juan hugging a teddy bear to her, to make her not feel any anger towards me.

"Why did you lie?" Marta asked, biting into an apple and leaning against the door frame.

"Where's Juan?"

"He's sleeping. Not making any 'fuss.'"

"Yeah, I just wanted to nap for a while," I said earnestly, lying down on the sofa.

The material of this sofa being so much softer than the cardboard-like sofa at Ab---

"Why are you here?" she asked in a casual tone. "You're always welcome and all, but why?"

Resting my hands on my stomach, I stared up at the white ceiling.

The lights were so much calmer than the bright lights at Ab---

"Who is Isaac? Your boyfriend?"

A contemptuous laugh escaped my lips. "What's up with you today? Is your work done? I never thought of you as the nosy types."

"I'm not the nosy type." From the corner of my eye, I saw her challengingly crossing her arms against her chest with the core of the apple squeezed in her hand. She was smiling smugly. "You never tell me anything these days."

I threw a pillow at her which hit the floor. "You heard my entire conversation, didn't you?"

"I get very, little free time and I choose to spend it wisely."

"Clearly. Well, dad had some issues with bills and all so that's why I am here," I lied. "Isaac's my boyfriend."

"Do you miss him?"

"Yeah, I do miss Isaac. We didn't have the best conversation the last time."

She laughed good-naturedly. "I meant your dad. If you missed your dad. Never mind, I get you. Why don't you go to meet him?"

"Now, do you mean my dad or Isaac?"

"Isaac." She rolled her eyes which reminded me that she was merely a couple of years older than me, a fact that I tended to forget every time little Juan was around.

"I can't. It's too far."

"What rubbish. I travel more to attend conferences. You can come back home by eight easily."

I observed her serious face. "What will I tell abuela?"

"You don't worry." She grinned, showing her crooked, pearly teeth. "I'll tell her you met up with my friend who shares the same passion for books as you do. Abuela never questions when it comes to studies and books."

"You seem like an expert in this."

"As I said, I have very, little free time and I choose to spend it wisely." She moved away from the door frame, cocking her head.

I got up with excitement directing my limbs as I grabbed my essential stuff and dashed outside.