“Where ya off to? Dinner? Seance? Local trash talk for gymnastics moms?” Her smile was wide and that look was knowing.
“Oh, my God…she told you.”
Maggie laughed, her wavy brown hair tossing back with her head. The girls look so much like her. Thank God. “She didn’t say much. Did you kick some ass?” She finally made it close enough to pull me in for a hug and her blue scrubs smelled like hospital soap and bandages. Two things I’d recognize if I were blind.
“Sadly, no. But there’s always next week.”
We pulled back and she grinned. “Actually, I’m pretty sure the only reason we have a next week over there is in thanks toyou, Mike Tyson. Thank you for that. I really didn’t think she was gonna go back.”
“I’m sorry if I overstepped, Mags.”
“Hush. You never overstep. Sorry if I’m not as kind. You’re coming back inside. I’m never off in time to have dinner with everybody. You gotta catch me up on all the shit I’ve missed.”
Lovely. Looks like I’m gonna be sitting commando at the same table with the entire Grey Brigade. Em and Vivian were squealing when we walked in together, Mom and Dad much the same, andGreg…was smiling like he had secrets to tell, eyeing me throughout my entire walk of shame to my chair. I helped myself to some chicken, Mom’s otherworldly baby red potatoes with rosemary sauce—you can’t find this kinda shit at a five-star restaurant—and green beans. Viv scrunched her nose at her plate. She’s three, and eats ketchup on literally everything. It’s the only way we’ve been able to get her to eat.
“Hey Vivian,” I said, smiling as I raised my glass of iced tea to my mouth. “Did you know green beans will give you big boobies when you get older?”
“Seven Grey,” Mom scolded. Emmy cocked her head and looked at me.
“Is that why your shirt looks funny, Auntie Sev?”
I choked into my glass. Greg exploded, covering his face as he leaned back in his chair. I hope it breaks and leaves him on the floor.
“What happened there? Get dressed in the dark, Little Bean?”
Leave it to Dad.
“I was in a hurry this morning. Moving on.”
Mom went for the bailout method, bless her soul, and started asking Maggie about work. They got into conversation, and I reached for my butter knife next to my plate, eyeing Greg while I stabbed my chicken breast. He couldn’t find the will to stop silently laughing. Just when I thought I was safe, he set his sights on Dad and took a sip from his glass.
“Hey, Dad? What are your thoughts on necrophilia?” I swear I wanted to crawl under the table.
“Necrophilia? Son, are you sure you wanna have this conversation in front of yourwife?” I burst out laughing and buried my face in my arms on the table. Maggie looked at Greg like he had fresh Maine lobster climbing out of his ears.
“I swear to God, I never win with you guys.”
“Youmight…if you knew what the hell you were talking about,” I cackled.
“Google is a beautiful thing, hubby. Whatever your initial plan was on that, I’m pretty sure necrophilia wouldn’t even save it from that kind of slaughter.”
Maggie-1, Greg-0
“How was Rockport, Mom?” I finally asked, dying to change the subject. She was all too eager to entertain this conversation. I knew she would. Doesn’t matter that she doesn’t know I’m not just asking for the sake of seeing how their weekend went.
“Fantastic. We had beautiful weather all weekend. Caught a lot of herring and some crab. I’m planning on makingsome of that tomorrow night. You should bring that handsome young thing I saw walking outta here earlier this morning.”
The entire table went silent…except for Greg, who heaved in more stupid laughter and raised his hands in praise.
“W—what?” I said, wide-eyed and with a mouthful of chicken.
Mom daintily forked a green bean into her mouth. “I was going out to get the mail this morning after breakfast so I could start on some stuff in the office, and I saw him walking across the street to Desiree’s. Was he not coming from here?”
“Oh, he definitely was,” Greg snickered. The bastard.
“Shutup, Greg.”
Vivian covered her smile with a messy hand. ‘Shutup’ is a bad word around here.
