“Your what?” Angela asked.
“She didn’t tell you?” Genesis replied.
“No,” Angela said. “No, she did not.”
Genesis turned to her grandmother with her hands on her hips.
“Ouma,” she said.
The old woman shrugged and said, “I was curious what she’d say. People are more candid when they’re not trying to impress you.”
“And you didn’t think that maybe today wasn’t the best time to interrogate my girlfriend?” Genesis asked.
“The opportunity presented itself,” her grandmother replied. “I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t take it.”
Genesis sighed. The old woman extended her hand to Angela.
“I’m Mina, by the way,” she said. “Your name is Angela, right?”
“Uh, yeah,” Angela said, shaking Mina’s hand. “You’ve heard about me?”
“Only what I could eavesdrop from her conversations with my husband,” Mina said. “She said you were shy, so it wasn’t too hard to pick you out of the crowd.”
“I didn’t realize I was so predictable,” Angela said, glancing toward Genesis.
“She’s just messing with you,” Genesis said. “Come on, let’s sit.”
She grabbed Angela by the arm and led her away. Genesis took a seat next to her father while Angela sat at the very end of the pew. Mina squeezed in between Dominick and Marta. Up at the pulpit, the priest cleared his throat and glanced around the room.
“We live in a world where the impossible is possible,” he said. “Where extraordinary people perform extraordinary feats on a daily basis, and fallen heroes return to life so often that death has lost all meaning to them. In the face of all this, how can ordinary men and women like us be expected to accept our own mortality and that of our loved ones?”