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My mother was dancing on the bar next to Tommy’s wife Heather, which wasn’t super out of character for either of them, but it was a struggle not to laugh and announce my presence because Heather was trying to teach my mom some kind of move that even I hadn’t seen before, and my mom was not getting it.
“I think you’re doing it wrong,” my mom said, shaking her head at Heather.
“I’m not doing it wrong,” Heather replied in exasperation. “I’m trying to show you how to do it. Look—” She swiveled her hips in some pattern that I couldn’t really figure out, but was impressive. Heather had moves, even when she was sober.
“I could do that,” Rose said, pointing.
“Don’t,” Mack said with a laugh, raising his beer to his lips. “I’m not watchin’ you do it while I’m sittin’ in the same room as your mother.”
“I’ll wait until we get home,” Rose teased, laughing as he reached over and slapped her ass.
“Maybe shift onto the other foot?” Aunt Callie called to my mom, ignoring her daughter and Mack.
“Shifting isn’t going to help,” my mom argued, waving Aunt Callie off.
I watched as Aunt Callie’s expression grew irritated, and I smiled as she got to her feet. I’d been watching the two of them my entire life—the way they played off of each other, supported each other without reservation, even if they knew the other one was wrong, and loved each other as much, if not more, than they loved their spouses—and I knew that Aunt Callie was about to school my mom.
“Like this,” Aunt Callie said in exasperation, copying Heather’s moves almost exactly.
“Oh, come on,” Rose complained, covering her eyes as Lily whooped in encouragement.
“I don’t think I should be seeing this,” Molly said, her eyes widening. She was listing to the side a little and braced her elbow against the table. “You’re like my mother.”
My mom hooted. “Grease is gonna loooooove that,” she said in glee.
“Get off the bar,” Aunt Callie shot back, picking up her drink. “You’re gonna fall and break your hip, and I’m not wiping your ass for you when you do.”
“Lies,” my mom countered, hopping off the bar with the agility of someone far younger. Even watching her do it made my joints ache. She laughed. “You’d wipe my ass.”
“Can we not talk about wiping asses?” Heather asked, climbing down much slower.
“Why?” my mom said, turning to look at Heather. “You have some problem with poop?”
Heather pressed her lips together firmly.
“Is it the smell?” my mom asked contemplatively. “Or the consistency? I mean, I’m regular, so—”
My hiding spot was blown as Heather raced past me toward the bathroom.
“Hey, what are you doing over there?” Molly asked. “Come sit down, we’ve got plenty of seats.” She giggled.
I had to admit, it was impossible not to like Molly, especially when she’d been drinking.
“You guys are loud,” I said as I moved toward them. “Does no one sleep around here?”
“I don’t know what I did wrong,” my mom said, throwing her arm around my shoulders as I reached her. “Cecilia goes to bed at nine and this one—” she pointed jokingly at Lily, swirling her finger in a circle. “Won’t even have a beer with me.”
“You know I have to be able to drive if Poet calls from the hospital,” Lily said, rolling her eyes.
“She’s a lightweight,” my mom said in exasperation. “How did this happen?”
Aunt Callie laughed. “How did you end up with the good kids and I ended up with the delinquents? It makes zero sense.”
“Hey,” Rose cried. “One of your delinquents is sitting right here.”
“Speaking of kids—ours are fine, but we owe Amy a spa day for keeping them,” Trix said as she came into the room with Brenna.
“Got a hang up from Dragon. They’re less than an hour out,” Brenna added.
“You got that from a hang up?” Molly asked in confusion.
“We have a system,” Brenna replied with a smile.
“Oh,” Molly breathed. “That’s smart.”
“We’ve been together a long time,” Brenna said indulgently.
“Hell, I can tell what Cody needs by the way he walks,” my mom said with a shrug.
“Don’t,” me and Lily said at the same time. Lily slapped her hands over her ears.
My mom laughed like a hyena.
“I don’t get it,” Molly said. As my mom’s insinuation sunk in, she turned a horrified shade of red. “Oh.”
“How’re you doing?” Brenna asked me as my mom moved away, saying something to Aunt Callie.
“I’m okay,” I said, shooting her a smile.
“Yeah?” she asked, tilting her head a little as she looked at me. “You sure?”
“I’m sure,” I replied, growing a little uncomfortable with the scrutiny.
She jerked her head a little toward the bar and I followed her over. As we sat down on the old barstools, we turned to face the group.
“The minute we turn our backs to them, they’ll think we’re talking about something interesting,” she said dryly. “If we face them, they won’t even pay attention.”
