Sometimes I wish that I could freeze the picture

And save it from the funny tricks of time

-

ABBA

M A R N I E

I was stuffing our bags in the boot of Arthur's car which seemed impossible until she decided to help me out with it.

Art's jaw flexed as she chewed her gum, her hair in waves down her back. She was dressed in an old band tee and denim long shorts underneath.

"I could have done that," I mutter and she kisses my cheek. I don't see her dark eyes as they are covered with sunglasses.

"Where everyone else?" I ask and she shrugs.

"Probably still at the Luciano house. Hungover. But I did leave them a text so they know just to head home." She says and I nod slowly.

The sun was shining so bright and I could feel myself go blind as I slide on my sunglasses. I was dressed in a white tank top and a sweater tied around my neck in case it gets windy and the same shorts as hers.

Since Art's car is a convertible I help her fold the rood and we both slide in. The leather is hot against my bare thighs and arms. I look at her as we drive off.

"Ugh, this weekend was so fun." I groan and she smiles before placing her ring-clad hand on my thighs. The cold rings are a contrast to my hot skin and I feel an internal sizzle at it.

"Fun but stressful." She adds and I nod agreeing with her.

Even with all the bullshit with Enzo, the weekend was still fun.

There was something so different between Italy and India. Neither could be compared to each other.

But all I can remember is visiting my grandfather and grandmother in India during summer and living in the beach house. Hearing the bell of the slushy guy ring as me and my little cousin brother ran to the main road to find him. I would always get the raw mango favoured slushy.

I remember climbing the mango tree in our yard to pluck the ripe ones. I remember the heinous track to an ancient temple on top of the mountain. I only climbed it for the wonderful view though. I remember taking the neighbour's sheep for grazing and chilling by the pond.

But with Italy, I remember driving around with Val and stopping near a store and leaving it with an armful of dresses. I remember vising the bookstore in the pouring rain. I remember cycling or skateboarding for half an hour to our aunt's home only to go to her farm and return home with mosquito bites.

But those memories will forever shine like gold in my heart.

"Lemons!" I exclaimed as I saw a lemon tree just by the side of the road.

"Get it." Art smiled as she stopped the car right below the tree.

"What? How?" I said looking up at the lemon which was pretty far up.

"Get on the bonnet." She shrugs and I prepare myself.

"Really? Would that be okay?" I ask and she nods smiling again.

"Of course darling." She replies and I seat myself on the door where I had just rested my hand and angle my body so that my feet can reach the bonet and I can get myself on there.

Once I'm standing on the bonnet I stretch myself so that my hands can reach the lemons. I pluck 3 and get back inside the car.

"I fucking love lemons," I mutter and Art passes me her knife. I recognise the knife as the one I always see in her hand and I cut the lemon into quarters and pass one to her.

We start driving again and keep going until about 2 hours and were pulling into the driveway of a cottage.

"Marnie, welcome to my home," Arthur says her voice grim and nervous but I say nothing about it.

"Your home?" I ask and she nods opening the door for me. I get out holding 2 lemons in one of my hands and Len in the other.

"Yup, this is where I grew up." She answers and I look at her as we make our way to the door. There are huge reflective glass windows to the side of the house right next to the door.

Art pulls out a pair of keys with maybe a hundred keychains and unlocks the door. I somehow expected the door to open with a creak but it doesn't.

"My grandma lives here, once every couple of weeks she throws parties. Great parties." She replies and I wonder where her mom is.

"And I come here once every couple month, to clean up. Help Nan." She places the keys on the wooden table and I am in awe of what I see.

"They used to call it the ship." She replies as I look around.

Holy shit.

"The ship?" I ask and she nods.

"Like an earth ship." Art explains and I nod slowly taking it all in.

It is truly an earth ship. Each and every corner of the house hoards plants.

After opening the front door there is another door right next to a passage.

The one with glass windows. A huge passageway filled with trees on one side and large windows on the other. At the end of the passageway is a small channel and over it a tap. Next to it is another door.

"It's built this way so that people wash their feet before entering our home." Art explains taking off her shoes and sock and I follow doing the same thing.

We walk down the passageway as the sunlight streams in and the plants are well taken care of. We reach the end of the passageway and Art steps on the mosaic tiles and washes her feet and I do the same whilst she unlocks the main door.

I dry my feet and enter the home to see the fine line between sanity and insanity.

One word is: Crazy architecture.

The doorway opens into a living room with a painted dome ceiling with a skylight at the apex.

"The living room, this is where I had my Bhagwad Gita reading classes." She says and my eyes blow wide.

"You've read The Gita?" I ask and she nods.

"Yes my mom was a Hindu and even though she married a Christian guy she wanted me to stay in touch with my roots. There's a temple nearby and a pandit from that temple would come over and teach me." Arthur explains, her hand holding kine as we make our way into the living room.

"This is like I guess the more intimate part? When there are guests over they sit in that living room unless someone is throwing a party." She explains as we walk through the doorway lined with colourful tiles into another room.

In the middle of the second living room are spiral stairs going upwards, lined with vines. I am guessing there is a skylight above by the way that the light falls on the stairs.

I immediately fall in love with the sight.

"This house is passed down to the women in my family. My grandmother an architect, married my grandfather, a builder. He built her this house as a gift before he left for the war. My grandmother used to host parties in the '50s all through the '70s and then my mother was born, she carried the- I guess the legacy. She threw parties in the '80s, the '90s and so on. And now this house belongs to me." She explained as we made our way up the stairs.

I think of how many memories are hidden in the corners of this house. How many remnants of parties line these walls. I think of how this quaint house used to be once booming with music, traced with alcohol as the Walker Women threw parties after parties.

"Do you throw parties?" I ask as we near the top of the stairs and I try to peek.

"I don't live here so no." She answers looking at me still.

"What if you lived here?" I ask, her brown skin glowing in the sunlight and I was right. There is a huge skylight above. In the shape of a crescent moon.

"Yes- no- maybe I don't know. That's a trick question." She smiles shrugging and we finally get to the top of the stairs.

"This is where everyone used to be gathered. Even when I was little my mom continued to throw crazy parties." She said pointing to the room. It's cosy and has three couches. Each is a contrasting shade. A huge bar in the corner of the room with light green tiles.

We walked through the corridor that then led to another room. With three doors and a sage green mesh curtain in a circle in the middle of the room. Art walked up to it and pulled it open to reveal a conversation pit.

"Holy shit," I said looking around. This is the Marnie dream house.

I wish I married a carpenter.

I wish someone was that in love with me to build something for me.

"Anyways. I wanted to show you the home I grew up in. I grew up here with my mom, my cousin and my grandma. My cousin is in Palermo. My Grandma still lives here. She's probably off to the market. But...yeah." she clasped her hands awkwardly as I took in the gorgeous place.

"Where's your mom?" I asked turning around not once thinking before speaking.

Arthur takes a sharp breath in and I know I ruined everything.

"Uh, she died when I was twelve. She was at a party, typical Shakti. She had an overdose." I turn around to see her standing in front of the sage green curtains with a nonchalant face. Almost as if she has said this story a thousand times.

"I'm sorry," I whisper not knowing what to say and she shrugs before walking over to the bar.

"You weren't the drug." She days monotonously and I stand there in sheer silence.

Arthur's ring clinks on the decanter holding the amber liquid in as she pours three glasses.

Just as I am about to say something I hear the downstairs door open.

"Arthur, dearest. Tell me you're here and not a fucking robber." I hear a shaky voice call out and Art smiles before handing me a glass and motioning for me to follow her.

"Hey, Nan." She says softly smiling as we stand face to face with an older woman.

Her skin was bronze and her eyes darker than Arthur's. Arthur is a spitting image of her. It's creepy.

Same hair although hers is in a braid. Tattoos that are fading covering her body.

"Oh, my love." Her grandmother whispers before pulling her into a hug. I see her eyes glaze over as Arthur hugs her.

"I haven't seen you in so long. And who's your friend?" She looks at me and walks over to me with that precious smile.

Her wrinkled shaky hand hold onto my free one as she looks at me in question.

"She is my Marnie," Arthur says and something in her words makes me look at her as she just stares at us with a smile.

My Marnie.

"Hello, it's great to meet you," I say softly and she shakes her head pulling me into a hug.

"The pleasures all mine." She says and I hold her. She is shorter than me but she is absolutely precious. Especially when she pulls away and puts on her glasses, grasping my face in her hand.

"Kinni sonhi lagdi tu." She says in Punjabi and I am astonished.

Translation: You look so pretty.

"Shukriya," I say flushing. My skin feels warm. I notice from the corner of my eye Arthur leaning against the wall taking a sip of her drink, her eyes on us.

Translation: Thank you

"I'm Nainti, call me Nan." She smiles and loops her arm around mine, I nod smiling and tightening my grip around her.

"God, you bitch you always make me ask for the drinks don't you." She jokes and Arthur laughs loudly before handing Nan her drink. She grabs the bags from Nan's hand.

"Come come, I am making lunch." She waves Arthur over as we walk into the kitchen.

"Marnie, can you help me with this?" Nan says and I place my drink on the mandela-printed tiles that grace the countertops.

"Of course. What do you need me to do?" I ask and she hands me an apron. I take off the sweater that is tied loosely around my neck.

"Just so your pretty clothes don't get stains. Could you slice the tomatoes?" She asks and I nod tying the apron around my waist and grabbing the tomatoes that Arthur was now washing.

"We can order lunch." She starts and Nan slowly turns around.

"You've been away for so long. And now you want to eat food from outside. God damn, do I really cook that horrible?" She says fake pouting but then laughing.

That's it, she's my spirit animal.

"Oh no Nan, I just didn't want to bother you," Arthur says a smile painted on her dark lips.

"How're things going in the village?" Art asks as Nan motions for me to sit on the wooden barstool and hands me a knife and a chopping board.

I don't once speak because seeing Arthur spend time with someone she loves is enough for me.

"Ugh, this bitch Marth let her cows graze near my flowers. Stupid bumasses ate all the good ones." She groans shaking her head. And now I know where Arthur gets her foul mouth from.

It's entertaining though.

"No way. I always knew she was a fucking bitch. But you decided to befriend her." Arthur rolls her eyes and I stifle a laugh.

"I am stupid what can I say. Besides, I gifted her expensive china. The least she could do was not let her cows graze near my poor flowers." Nan says seeming genuinely sad about it.

"We can sow seeds, right? Before we leave?" I cut in and Nan looks so joyful that I want to build her a fucking botanical garden.

"Oh, would you? You're an angel, truly!" She claps her hand and kisses my cheeks.

"She is," Arthur says looking at me as I stare at her with a smile shrugging.