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“She’s super sexy, very generous in the sack, and plays an instrument. What’s your lover like?”
Justice balks. “He’s your club president.”
“Yes, but does he offer you plentiful sexy times. Do you feel loved?”
While my aunt gasps to the tempo of “Fun” now playing, Queen Meemaw Christine sits in the recliner, puts up her feet, and enjoys the show.
Justice stops gasping long enough to tell me, “For your information, Court is a very patient, generous lover. He does lots of oral. Almost too much, really.”
“Why did you look right at me when you said that?” Alexis asks, staggering backward. “Do you think I should suck off West more? I mean, we just started having sex yesterday. I feel like I’ve had his dick in my mouth the appropriate number of times.”
“Good for you, bro,” Tuesday says while cuddling my mom.
I know for a fact those two are not really hugging as much as plotting. Who is their target, though—Alexis or Justice?
“Whatever you think is appropriate is likely skimpy,” Justice says and nudges Journey. “We know how you Toomeys are.”
Her sister insists, “I’m not really in the mood to join forces with you.”
“Wait, so I have to be the bitch alone?”
“Sure,” Journey says and checks the food left unloved on the stove.
Justice gets wound up enough to flat-out whine. “I need backup, and my babes aren’t in town. Where’s Edith? Her personality is like toxic waste.”
“I’m not fighting with you, idiot,” Journey mutters. “Unless you piss me off. At which point, I’ll join forces with everyone else to shave your head.”
Justice gasps with great fury while stroking her short pixie cut. Finally, she slaps her hands together and announces, “This got too real. I’m out. Are you happy, Toomey?”
Alexis shrugs. “I wasn’t really listening. However, I did want to say how much I like your haircut. For a long time, I considered cutting mine short and fun like yours.”
“Really?”
“Yes, but I’m already cursed to be a ginger. No way could I pull off a boy’s haircut, too.”
Tuesday and Poppy stop plotting long enough to laugh at Justice, who shakes her head and walks over to her mother. Soon, she climbs on the recliner and cuddles with Christine.
“I’ve been wronged.”
Stroking her middle daughter’s head, Christine says softly, “Well, sometimes, people stand up to bullies.”
“I used to be the victim. Remember when I was sympathetic?”
“Sure, babe.”
While joining Journey at the stove, Alexis asks Justice, “You ratted out that bitch who attacked you at work, right?”
“How did you know about that?” Justice asks.
“My cousins did research on your family.”
Shaking my head, I point at myself. Alexis doesn’t see, but most of my family does.
Journey ignores my signal. She’s too busy explaining to Alexis how Poppy doesn’t season her food well. They add cumin and extra pepper.
Ma-Poppy grumbles, “Emmett doesn’t like too much spice, so don’t dump a ton in my food.”
“Come finish your meal,” Journey replies, wearing a dark frown.
“I’m consoling my babe,” she says, stroking Tuesday’s head as my sister texts someone. “Didn’t you hear how she accidentally murdered a bunny?”
As I stand nearby, Alexis becomes Journey’s helper, adding onion and garlic powder before stirring the meat. I smile at how curious she seems about the cooking steps. My dream girl absolutely craves more opportunities to shine in life.
As the homestead’s newest member, Alexis can enjoy the kind of family she got screwed out of as a kid.
