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5
Family Reunion
“Gigi!”
Mom screamed when she saw me, our spat of earlier in the week having been successfully swept under the rug.
“Your brothers just got here, too,” she cried, craning to see where they’d gone.
I wanted to correct her and say stepbrothers, but there was really no point. She’d called them my brothers since the first time we’d met, always hoping against hope that we’d become great friends and one big happy family.
She clearly knew nothing about the social world of teenagers.
But today, like always, she looked like a million bucks. But then, she was worth a million bucks. I would never say my mother was a gold digger, but she sure had turned marrying wealthy men into an art form.
I’d had a couple stepdads, but the one I liked best had been father to Reece, Julian, and Nathan. Bob Lincoln had been a great guy, and did his best to be a good stepfather to me. We’d never wanted for anything, thanks to Mom’s talent for attracting wealthy men, but Bob’s world was a new one altogether.
Unfortunately, he’d died relatively young. Like Mom’s first husband, my dad.
In spite of my shit mood, I had to admit the picnic setting was pretty sweet with nicely manicured lawns and strategically placed weeping willows. And just as Mom had promised, the weather was perfect. Any normal person would have gotten a boost out of the sunny day, but when I pulled into the parking area and shut off my little Kia, well, I wished I could just go back to bed.
I was a mess. I knew it. My Amazon dress hadn’t arrived in time and despite my mother’s reminders, I didn’t do any laundry to prepare for the reunion. I had almost nothing clean when it came time to get dressed. I’d showered and all that, even working up enough energy to shave my legs and lady bits. Not that they would be getting any attention. It just felt nice to be smooth again.
It had been a sure sign I was down in the dumps when I’d rather put up with prickly pubes than do a little grooming in the goodie region. It was like I wanted to torture myself with the massive, irritating itchiness.
So, I was shaved and showered, but had few options in the fashion department. I pulled on an old pair of shorts and a sleeveless t-shirt normally reserved for errand running and cleaning the house—not that I cleaned house anymore.
And because I was low on clean clothes, I dug into the back of my underwear drawer for panties and a bra. I managed to dig out some sexy little things from when Peter and I had still been hot for each other. Since it was the only clean stuff I had, I pulled it on under my frumpy shorts and T-shirt.
No one would know.
Before I forced myself out of the car and into my mother’s eager arms, I adjusted my thong panty, which had crept up my ass on the drive over.
Goddamn things.
“Hey, Mom,” I said, tugging my baseball cap down over my undyed roots.
“Oh, honey, look at you,” she said, sizing up my shabby outfit and forcing a fake smile.
We embraced and I checked out the scene, already looking for a shady, private spot to hide for the next few hours. “The reunion’s big this year,” I said, amazed at how many of my stepsiblings had produced offspring in the last couple years.
Mom looked around, nodding triumphantly. “You know, your aunts were skeptical about the level of interest in this event. They said we wouldn’t get much of a crowd. But I knew we would. Our family loves each other!”
My aunts had a point. If Mom hadn’t badgered people to show up, we’d be looking at the smaller turn out they’d predicted. But Mom could be very persuasive.
Hell, she’d gotten me there.
“C’mon, honey,” she said, taking me by the hand.
We headed toward nearly a hundred people standing around chatting, with beer, wine, or champagne in their hands.
Four huge barbecue grills were set up, staffed by cooks wearing white aprons and tall chef’s hats. Strange to see that at a park where the next picnic area over had a dad cooking hotdogs on a hibachi grill for his kids who were drinking juice packs and eating potato chips out of the bag.
Music drifted out of a Bose speaker connected to someone’s idea of a good Pandora station. I suspected Mom was behind the music choices when Wham! came on with their hit, Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go.
“Mom, this music—”
She turned to me, still holding my hand as if I would try to escape. “I know, Gigi! Isn’t it fun?”
