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I get the urge to follow up with Landry’s point. Assuming she means Nomad adopted her kids, I just nod. Though I’m curious about these women, I don’t think I’ll be able to get their stories organized in my head when we’re all together. The key is to put in time with each of them or in small groups. That’s what I failed to do with my childhood friends.
With these women, I’ll treat our relationships with more care. Right now, though, I just plan to sit back and let them do their usual routine.
As our nails dry, Wynonna gets a devious look in her brown eyes. “Where does everyone stand on the subject of fisting?”
Rosemary rolls her eyes while Irina nearly spits out her drink. I choke on my Bellini before praying this isn’t one of those groups where everyone is required to answer every question.
“What’s fisting?” Selene asks Yazmin who leans over and explains. “Oh, I’m not doing that. Hoyt has a dick.”
“Exactly,” Wynonna says and nods furiously before continuing, “My old frenemy Gayle—” When Landry rolls her eyes, Wynonna pauses and grumbles, “I liked you better when you were submissive and grateful to have a friend.”
Landry and Rosemary share a laugh while Callie texts someone. Wynonna glares at her stepmother who finally puts down the phone.
“Please continue about your dead best friend who lost a leg and fell off a deck in that order.”
“Coldhearted wench,” Wynonna sneers before smiling. “Anyway, Gayle was so proud of how her man fisted her. Like, she wanted to put that triumph in her Christmas letter. I don’t know why she’d think anyone would be surprised. She had a notoriously giant muff.”
Laughing behind my hand, I relax at how Wynonna needs little help to keep the conversation going.
“But apparently, Gayle’s man had a hangup about his tiny hands. He wanted to feel like a big man for punching her pussy. So, they did it, and she loved it. She tried to bully me into doing it, too.”
“But you were too much of an alpha to follow that sheep,” Callie says, smirking at her stepdaughter.
“Obviously. I was dating Ralph back then. When I mentioned to him about the whole fisting thing, he asked why any man would fuck a woman with his fist when he had a perfectly good dick. That was the exact moment when I knew I would marry him.”
Callie nods. “I’d never agree to fisting. Though I’ve done anal with my husband on a few occasions, just to see what the fuss was about.”
“Why do it more than once?” Wynonna balks, wearing a horrified expression. “It really only takes one time to know what the fuss is about.”
“You’d think, but Ed and I aren’t young anymore,” Callie says despite being only a decade older than me. “Our memory fails us at times, so we end up doing the same shit more than once. It’s why we’ve tried sitting through ‘The English Patient’ twice.”
Wynonna glares at Callie. “I thought having a younger piece of tail for a wife was supposed to keep my father young.”
“Young at heart,” Callie clarifies. “His mind is still that of an older gentleman.”
“I’m curious about his physical stamina,” Rosemary says, smirking at Landry as they stir up trouble. “What’s his age in that area?”
Wynonna grunts. “If you continue to mention my father’s sex life, I’m disinviting you all to our late lunch.”
After the others laugh at Wynonna’s fake threat, she gives up on the ruse and sighs. “From time to time, I find myself missing that one-legged, fist-loving bitch.”
Her words make me consider the people I’ve shared complicated relationships with over my life. From the friends I let slip away to the parents I never saw clearly. Eventually, I consider my brother and sister. They were nearly adults when I was born. They’ve always felt like strangers I needed to impress rather than family I should enjoy.
Every day, my sister texts me. Not out of affection. She’s certain I’ve made a poor decision by moving to McMurdo Valley. I think she also worries I might not survive without my parents pulling my strings.
That’s why I’ve mostly responded to her texts with quick messages like “Doing well. Hope you are too.”
Over the last few days, I’ve only sent heart emoticons. I don’t know what to say to Quana. She feels like more of a stranger than the women around me now. At least, this group wants to know the real me. They’re also willing to reveal their real selves.
Not Quana. She’s always been the overachiever with the successful husband and excellent children. Their house is immaculate. The vacation one, too. Her restaurants always have successful launches. She possesses a sixth sense for what will work and what won’t. No wonder she was dead set against my coffee shop.
Refusing to apologize for my choices anymore, I focus on my new friends at lunch. They’re all so different that I don’t feel like I need to conform to anything. The sisters stick close together. Landry and Rosemary seem tight since they live on the same property. Wynonna and Callie like to torment each other. That leaves me with Irina, which is perfect since her husband is Hobo’s closest friend.
We mostly talk about building a house. She shows me design sites she used. We discuss how Hobo and Eagle can’t stand dark, cramped places.
“I know it seems too soon to talk about building a house,” I admit to Irina after we finish lunch. “But I’ve wasted so much time waiting to start the good part of my life.”
“I’m glad Hobo found you.”
