Song of the chapter: Everything Has Changed  by Taylor Swift & Ed Sheeran

One knock is made against the solid red wooden door that sits before us. 

Two knocks. 

Three. 

No answer is returned, delivering an anti-climatic beginning to Theo's venture into the not-so-typical suburban American experience he assumes. 

"Baba! It's me, Ella! Are you home?" I call out to no avail. 

I peek through the windows that reside to the right of the door whilst Theo looks into those on the left. We both look up at the same time, the same inconclusive look on our face that says we have no results. 

I call out again but I still hear nothing and so I try my luck with the door. Sure enough, it is unlocked, welcoming Theo into my grandmother's house as well as opening me up to concerns of whether this is due to her declining memory. 

Lord knows what could have happened this time if not long ago she had been moments away from burning down her house. I mean, who knows where she could even be? She could have left the house and forgotten to lock it and be anywhere in the town by herself now.

Then again, she could have just left it unlocked because she was expecting me.

Is this what life will be like with each and every one one of her decisions now? Will I begin to question everything?

"Baba?!" I shout out as we make our way further into the house. 

As I conduct my search, Theo is completing his own investigation. I watch as his eyes roam over every surface of my grandmother's home, absorbing every little knick knack and heirloom. A far cry from the suburban American exterior, what hides behinds its cladded walls is a traditional European interior; a home away from her original home. 

On the mantel rests a ornate framed picture of my grandmother and grandfather on their wedding day. Atop the coffee table rests a crochet delightfully emblazoned in the colours of the rainbow. On the walls, much to my chagrin, were photo collages of Lexi and myself with school photos through all the years- and truly all the years, including those with missing teeth or the long swept side fringe that was cool when I was 13. I try to walk past as quickly as possible when we get to that point of the hallway because I am certainly going to do everything I can to stop Theo from seeing that. 

Whilst Theo is preoccupied with his new surroundings, I am busy looking for clues to my grandmother's presence. I call out again whilst simultaneouly trying to make as little sound as possible so that I don't block out any noises from her. 

And just as I begin to doubt her presence here, or worse - imagine that something worse has happened to her - I hear my grandmother calling out my name in response. I realise where I had stupidly forgotten to look, one of the most common spots for her that I had overlooked in my panic. 

"Baba, there you are." I say with relief as I open the fly screen door to spot her small figure with a straw hat atop her head squatting down in her back garden. 

"Oh, Ella. You scare me." she remarks as she slowly attempts to lift herself from the ground where she appeared to be pulling weeds from her garden. I rush over to help her as she takes just a second too long to get up and begins to wobble. 

I am soon engulfed in her arms, the same arms that have made me feel right at home whether I was just a small rascal who reached her hips or a grown woman. Where once I would rest my head under hers, now I crouch down so that we might rest our heads on each others shoulders. It seems that Baba needed this hug just as much as me, holding on for a bit longer than usual. 

However, this tender moment promptly ends because when she pulls back I know the exact moment she has spotted Theo's presence, her eyes widening and twinkling with interest. 

Before she can ask anything or make any embarrassing comments I jump the gun and introduce him.

"Baba, this is my friend Theo," I announce, to which Theo moves forward with a childish smile on his face, "My car broke down before I had to leave so he was kind enough to offer to drive me and help us out too."

"Lovely to meet you ma'am." he greets her, ever the gentleman with his hand outstretched awaiting to shake hers.

"You can call me Baba, Teodore," she informs him, unable or unwilling to pronounce the 'th' sound in his name.

I notice Theo hold back an adoring chuckle before he responds with "Thank you Baba. You have a lovely home."

"Thank you. I have this house for a very long time," she begins to explain as she dusts herself off and starts walking back into the house, Theo and I following behind. "My Elizabella and Alexia have been in this house since they were little girls. They used to spend every Friday night here and I still have the same bed they would sleep in."

"Where's Dad?" I cut in, knowing if I wanted an answer I would need to intercept before we go down a long path of childhood stories. Plus, I needed to know if I should start stressing out about Theo meeting my father as well today. 

"He had to go to work at the last minute. They call him last night. And your sister is with that cheeky boy of hers at a wedding."  I laugh at her reference to Mason, knowing my sister's relationship with him was far from normal to my grandmother. I didn't want to imagine what she would say about mine and Theo's current arrangement. 

I take in my surroundings as I try to accept the sight of my grandmother's belongings sitting in feeble cardboard boxes. Meanwhile, Theo continues to look around the house. Once his back is turned Baba takes the opportunity to raise her eyebrows in his direction before nodding at me in approval. I choke on my own saliva in response to what is basically my grandmother rating Theo. 

This alerts Theo, breaking his attention away from whatever photo he was looking at on the bookshelf to check what was happening to me. I cover my embarrassment with my attempt at a nonchalant smile, looking away from his inquisitive gaze as soon as I can. 

"Anyways...," I begin, grabbing a cardboard box from the pile that rests beside my feet, "Let us know where we can start Baba. We're here to help." 

My grandmother reluctantly suppresses her smirk as she begins to explain what she had done so far and how she was organising the boxes.  I try not to think too much about the fact that soon these rooms would be left barren, to be filled with the belongings of random tenants while those that had filled its walls for decades sat in storage and my grandmother in a nursing home. 

Standing beside those boxes that had already been packed and were ready to be moved to the garage, Theo takes the lead. "I'll start taking those boxes out for you and let you two catch up." he says, leaving us two alone once my grandmother has expressed all her gratitude to him, shown him the garage and, of course, offered him a fridge load of cakes for once he is finished with his tasks. 

Once Baba and I have gotten stuck into our own tasks, with a system put in place, I know it is time to open the cans of worms that I had been keeping closed up all week. I had held off this conversation for when we were in person, which Theo had known and graciously considered, and now the moment had come. No more excuses.

"So, how are you feeling?" I ask, not finding it in me to look at her entirely as I do, gratefully using the packing as a distraction. 

"I am okay," she answers quietly, taking her time as she wipes down and reminisces over each item that she passes over to me to pack away. "Your sister and father stress too much. And if they are stressing then I know you are stressing more, my Bella."

My instinct is to deny this, but not even my pride is strong enough to hide this reality. I feel exhausted and know that I probably look it too. Even if I could physically conceal the worry, my grandmother knows how I've reacted to things in the past so could predict how I had responded this time. 

"Baba, why didn't you tell me?" I ask, cutting straight to the point. "I could have been there for you." 

We both place down the items we are holding as we venture into what we know is a delicate conversation, needing all our attention to be on one another and not on whatever thirty year old VHS tape I was holding. 

"My Elizabella, you look after everyone enough. There is nothing you could do for me and it was just a few small things I was forgetting. That is normal when you are old like me. Why should I stress you?" she answers as if it is so simple.

"Because that's what family do," I respond, failing a bit to hide the frustration in my tone. "Can you imagine if something was wrong with me and I didn't tell you? I don't imagine you would be particularly happy about that."

To that she has no response, remaining tight lipped as she carefully considers her response or possibly considers what that would feel like. I am hoping by some chance that I've gotten through to her and that in the future when something happens, because something always does in life, that she will tell me.

"Okay, I understand. I will not do it again," saying the exact words I needed to hear with her hands up in defence, "But I am okay, really. They have a nice garden at the nursing home and Mrs Stacevski from across the road also lives there. Your father said I can come stay with him anytime I want on the weekend- maybe we can come together to visit you some time too?" she suggests, never forgetting her role as grandmother and trying to make me feel better.

"That sounds lovely." I take her in my arms and hold on tightly but carefully, not wanting to harm her and feeling that she is more fragile than ever.

Once we step apart, we return to our packing but not before Baba takes her chance to ask her own questions.

"So, if we are not keeping secrets, who is this Theo boy? Is he your special friend? Maybe your Baba will get to see her granddaughter be married?" she eagerly prods, her cheeky snooping smile wide across her face.

Oh lord this woman. I playfully smack her arm with the cookbook I am once again holding, reprimanding the devilish busy body. I mean, I kind of knew what I was signing up for. It's like dangling a toy in front of a kid- she couldn't resist. 

Before I can even respond, she continues with her old-fashioned commentary. 

"You know Ella, I was twenty-four when I got married. Your mother was 25. Maybe now you will be like your mother and Baba and something special will happen for you too with this nice boy?" she whispers to me with a nudge in Theo's direction as he quickly walks in to grab another box and promptly walks out again. He sends an innocent smile in our direction as he notices us watching on his way out, while Baba struggles to hold back a coy smirk. 

"Baba, if you are asking if Theo is my boyfriend, then no. He's just a friend," I answer quietly once Theo appears to be out of sight. "Even if he was more than that, we've only known each other a couple of months so I would not be getting married any time soon. And last of all, we all saw how well marriage turned out for your daughter." I explain, knowing deep down though that I shouldn't even bother. 

"I only knew your grandfather for two months before I was engaged to him."

That's what she took from that whole bit. That's it. 

Lord help me.

"He is a nice boy this Teo. Very nice to come help you."' she continues persistently.

"He is. And yes, it is very nice."

"Maybe he can become a special friend?"

I can't help but laugh at her fulfilling every old, nosy lady stereotype.

"I wouldn't count on it Baba."

But it doesn't stop there. Whilst the remainder of the living room is packed away I am asked question after question about Theo, despite him not being my boyfriend as I would repeat numerous times. What did he do for a living, how long have we known each other, how old is he, does he live in his own place?

I finally escape the interrogation to have a toilet break and call Jess to update her, only to come back to the sight of Theo and Baba chit-chatting like old friends. I would have guessed from how interested she had been earlier that now she'd be asking Theo further questions about himself. However, from the way they are laughing with one another it appears not. 

"What did I miss out on?" I ask, fingers crossed that it is not some embarrassing information about me that I'd rather not have shared.

"Oh, we were actually just talking about a TV show." Theo answers, evidently finished with his task of taking the boxes out to the garage. 

"A TV show?" I'm skeptical about what show they could possibly bond over. They don't exactly seem like they would have the same repertoire for television.

"Well, there's this Australian show that's popular back in the U.K. Your grandma apparently loves it and I always used to watch it with my grandmother. It's called Neighbours." he explains, saying words I never thought I'd hear come out of his mouth.

"Theo watches Neighbours!" Baba exclaims as she squeezes Theo's arm with excitement, barely letting him get his words out. 

"Oh wow, I do remember Neighbours. So, you're a big fan Theo?" I question whilst holding in a laugh, preparing myself from the defensiveness likely to come from a twenty-something year old male watching an Australian soap-opera that the seventy-something year old next to him obsesses over.. 

"I don't know about big fan. I haven't watched it in a couple years but my grandmother gives me updates." he elaborates, abashed by his secret pleasure.

"No Ella. Teo is being shy. He remember so much. He remember Toadie and the naughty Dr. Kennedy." she reveals, bringing up characters that I had heard all about fifteen years ago when I had been roped into watching alongside my grandmother in the afternoons at her home. 

It just keeps getting better.

I choke on the orange juice that I had just begun sipping on, sending it down the wrong side and leaving me with a burning scratched throat. But it is worth it for the joy of this information. 

"Wow" is all that I can say as Theo lowers his head and grimaces. He knows his case is not looking good.

I could have never predicted this. And I thought I'd be the one having embarrassing stories being revealed. 

"Well, it's been a while. I'm not really familiar with the show today." he argues, still thinking there's anything he can say that redeems him from this new fact. 

"Your grandmother is very lucky woman to have such a good grandson, calling him and watching the television shows together." Baba cuts in, looking up at him with her hand still resting on his arm. 

He stops making his case, looking down at her to reciprocate her smile in what is likely a rare instance of maternal gestures with his grandmother being thousands of miles away in Scotland.

"Thank you. That's very kind of you to say." 

I watch on as my grandmother and - well I don't even know what title belongs to Theo - seem to bond as they share this sincere moment. I've never experienced this- bringing a guy home to meet the family. Even if he isn't my boyfriend, it feels monumental. I have some sort of satisfaction from watching on as one of the most important people in my life seemingly gives her tick of approval to someone I have brought into my life. 

And I can't deny that it is doing something to the way that my brain processes Theo. Seeing him merge from one part of my world which I had been hiding him away in to the other part of my life, I can see the walls that divide the two slowly crumbling away. I can't help but think about what it might be like if he did actually meet my father. What might they bond over? Soccer, or football as Theo would insist it's called? Cars? Maybe some more secret pleasures Theo is hiding that we could all laugh over?

What would it be like to not be alone on these drives home? To not be by myself as I sit bored at another extended family function. To have Theo there, to show him my world and watch on as Uncle Grant drunkenly takes over the dance floor at whatever wedding we go to or as Cousin Jasmine attacks everyone to make sure she gets the bouquet.  

What if he was there beside me at the dinner table, holding my hand under the table as Christmas dinner was passed around. As Lexi did her yearly attempt at making a dessert that we would all reluctantly taste. As the snow enclosed us in the walls of Baba's house- or I should say, my father's house. 

I know I am getting ahead of myself. Way ahead of myself. The logical part of my brain that is not getting caught up in hormones and ideals is telling me that all those things- the family, the holidays, the crazy Uncles, the relationship - is not something  that Theo does. The many things he has told me in my time knowing him doesn't really suggest otherwise. He's never been in a relationship, he has a distant if not hostile relationship with his father, he's a workaholic. 

He's never suggested that this is anything more than a regular hook-up. 

I mean, neither have I. 

But it's tempting, oh so tempting, as I'm teased with the possibility before me. Maybe this is just me figuring out that I want someone in my life, not necessarily Theo, I tell myself and I try to push away the fantasies I had stirred up. 

We continue packing, memory after memory being buried away into the confines of a cardboard box as the home where my childhood was formed so significantly is stripped bare. With the the tape being pulled across the last box of my grandmother's memories, the door is closed to a chapter of her life as I wonder what chapters may be waiting in the foreseeable future. 

For her. For me. Maybe even for Theo.