Monday evening, Thursday afternoon. Jenny Robson

then in the desert when he was grown-up, Jesus riding on a donkey. I didn’t show you the picture of Jesus dying on the cross though. I tried never to look at that one myself. You kept shaking your head.

      Then my mom’s head appeared around the side of my door. She seemed worried again.

      “Louise, love. Why don’t you rather show your friend your new Barbie clothes?”

      So I did. And we were still playing with my Barbie when Kyle got home from school in his cherry-red Riverside High blazer. As always, the whole house seemed to light up. It always felt like that when my big brother was home.

      “Hey, you two squashed-tomato noses! What are you sitting inside for on such a magic day? Come on, get your costumes on. Let’s hit the pool.”

      You borrowed one of my costumes and we both laughed because you were so much smaller than me and the material bunched up all around your middle. But so what! We were ready for action!

      We had a great time in the pool. Kyle picked us up, one at a time, steadied us on his shoulders and then hurled us bottom-first into the water. The splashes we made reached my mom’s deck loungers. She came out to rescue her cushions.

      “Louise, are you sure this is alright? Are you sure Faheema’s allowed to swim? I don’t want her parents to be upset.” But because Kyle was home, Mom managed to smile as she watched us dive-bomb some more.

      It did get easier though, didn’t it, your visits to our house? My mom stopped acting so weird and worried all the time. Sometimes I heard her talking on the phone to her friends.

      “Yes, that’s Louise’s little Muslim friend. She’s coming to play tomorrow … No, it’s not a problem at all … You know me, Tina. Live and let live, that’s my motto. And Louise is very fond of her.”

      But still, there were times she and Dad passed their secret eye messages when I talked on and on about you. There were times when she lifted me onto her lap and said, “You know, Louise, you must try to have more friends. It’s not good to always be with the same person, day after day after day. Always in each other’s pockets. What about Susan de Lange down the road? Or Annette Winterton?”

      I wanted to answer that she was with Dad day after day after day. So how come that was alright? But of course I didn’t. It would have sounded cheeky and Mom didn’t like me being cheeky.

      And you did start to feel more comfortable, didn’t you? After a while?

      And you must remember, Faheema, I was quite ner­v­­ous the first time I went to your home too. I ­really didn’t know what to expect.