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“Fruit cake!” I bellow.
“Don’t any of you know how biology works!” the Kid shrieks.
“I never studied biology!” Mrs. Paquinn screams.
“Holy God, will all of you shut up! ” Alice hollers.
We all look at her.
“Let me get this straight,” she says, and for some reason, that’s funny to most everyone in the room. Apparently that joke won’t die the death it deserves. I try to reach for more wine but Otter slaps my hand. Bastard.
“We’re gone for seven months,” Alice continues, “and we come back, and my son has moved back to Seafare, Bear and Anna broke up, Bear and Otter are having… coitus”— dear God, please send meteors to destroy the earth and save me from this conversation—“and now they live together with the Kid, who Bear is trying to adopt, and Anna and my other son are dating?”
“No one ever remembers Mrs. Paquinn,” Mrs. Paquinn grumbles.
Alice stares at her. “And you, what, want to have relations with your male nurse?”
“His name is Jorge,” she sighs, rolling the r for almost ten seconds.
“How exotic is that? He’s from Cleveland.”
She looks at her oldest son. “And you’re in love? With Bear?”
Otter nods. “So much so I can’t even explain it.”
Jesus, he’s really looking to get laid tonight.
Mrs. Paquinn sniffs as she dabs her eyes. “That was so precious.”
Alice reaches her conclusion. “This is all your fault,” she says as she glares at her husband.
“My fault?” Jerry snaps. “How the hell is this my fault!”
“I don’t know! But you did something!”
“Why didn’t you tell us you’d broken up?” Mrs. Grant asks Anna.
“Because you would’ve asked why, and Bear wasn’t ready for people to know,” she says, glancing over at me. “I wasn’t going to out him just because I was angry.”
Otter’s staring raptly at Anna, so he doesn’t see me sneak more wine. I need to be way dranker (see? It sounds right!) than I already am. It still doesn’t stop my heart from stuttering in my chest at her words. I don’t know what I’ve ever done to deserve Anna, but I must have done something right.
“And what about you?” Alice asks Creed. “Why are you mad at Bear?”
I drop the wineglass on the table but nobody notices. That’s okay, though. I’ve spilled wine on the undoubtedly expensive white tablecloth. I cough ever so subtly and hide the growing spot with my napkin. No one sees my elaborate cover-up. I’m in the clear.
Creed rolls his eyes. “I’m not mad at Bear,” he grumbles, so obviously lying.
“Bullshit,” Otter barks at him. “You’ve been a dick ever since you found out about us.”
“Oh, all of two weeks ago?” he snaps back.
“It was three weeks ago,” I mumble.
“Fine. Whatever.”
It’s now or never, it whispers. Screw it. You’re drunk, he’s pissed, everyone is listening, why the hell not? They all know everything else, so why not this? Ah, family therapy. Is there any better kind?
“No, not whatever,” I snap back, losing my cool. “What the fuck is your deal? Is it because I kept it from you? Is it because of the way you found out? I know I messed up. I know I fucking lied about so much, but, Jesus, Creed, you just bailed at the end. I know you’re not a homophobe, so what the hell is your problem?”
